


Sleep Latency

by hexagonalslugs



Series: Circadian Rhythm [3]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Angels, Babies, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Wings, angel - Freeform, wing fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 17:52:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hexagonalslugs/pseuds/hexagonalslugs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time passed, or rather did not seem to pass like it used to for the flock.  Dying wasn’t a horrible one-time last chance, it meant a renewal. . When they weren’t putting humans back in their place, they were rebuilding, teaching and learning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disconnect

**Author's Note:**

> just... trust me on the ships okay?

Time was a relatively unaccounted for commodity. It passed, or rather did not seem to pass like it used to for the flock. Dying wasn't a horrible one-time last chance, it meant a renewal. Desmond had gone through it a few times, much less than some of the others. When they weren't putting humans back in their place, they were rebuilding, teaching and learning.

The Farm hardly looked like the closed compound it once was. The huge, sprawling city that had been hidden below it was unearthed and took its place. Buildings, roads and canals were restored, and the population of angels flourished. There was a controlled population of humans, of course, a lot more amicable than the ones from the past, but just the same, there were others that still existed outside of the Great Civilization who stubbornly clung to old ways and twisted stories of the past.

The avians themselves were no longer quite the feathered humans they once appeared to be. Aside from some lingering memory glitches, most of the Ancient's angels were back and functioning exactly as they should be.

Most humans outside of the Civilization were small bands of people who kept to themselves, did everything they could as to not draw the attention of the risen Ancients or their angelic soldiers - even their pets were just as deadly as their legions.

Desmond was restless, much preferring to be fighting beside Altair rather than staying by his Keeper's side. They had been preparing for a final assault. Abstergo was all that remained of organized human groups that refused to let go of their misguided supremacy. He was not sure when they would make their move, but he did know that they were fast approaching their peak, and that the Ancients were fed up with the constant bother that was the remaining Templars.

He spent a lot of his time watching the others train, but obediently stayed clear. Desmond developed a habit of waiting for Altair, and after, if he was not too tired, flying with him. His Keeper kept him meticulously groomed, and Desmond never passed up a chance to ruffle his feathers or get a little dirty. So he waited patiently, eyes tracking Altair midst the others.

Altaïr grunted when he threw Malik to the ground. The other angel groaned a little. Altaïr grinned down at him, "Losing your touch, Malik," he said. "Maybe I'm going to start winning more often," because nothing pissed Malik off like reminding him that Altair was getting older, getting better. Malik wasn't his mentor anymore and one day Altair was going to beat him consistently instead of once every now and then. He let Malik go and stood up, offering a hand.

Malik took the offered hand, but kept himself grounded in case Altair decided to throw him again - it wasn't unheard of, and was one thing that was quickly becoming a favorite prank. "Whether or not you are good enough yet is for Rashid to decide, and ultimately, the Keepers," Malik reminded him, taking his hand back and fluffing out his feathers. There was no sound as he flapped his wings out, only when he folded them and the feathers rubbed against each other.

The silence of his wings was a favored, though rare trait among the angels. Kadar had the same type of feathers, but he was not a warrior like Malik, and though they were not exactly siblings by parent, had the habit of treating each other as such.

Malik's dark eyes met Desmond's and he glanced back at Altair. "Desmond is there," he said.

Altaïr's eyes went to where Malik was looking. "Yeah, and?" he asked. "He's always there," Altair shrugged, "tell me when you see something interesting," he said. The older angel was around all the time but Altair didn't know him well. Sometimes he joined Altair in a course but that was it. And he always stepped away from outside his kept home to come watch Altair.

Like most angel soldiers they kept his memory carefully regulated. He remembered what he needed to remember to make him more effective. Soldiers died too often to have them need to worry about past lives beyond skills. Altair knew once they were allowed to live in peace and the humans stopped poking the mighty bear that was their Civilization and the war was over he'd be privy to all his past lives again.

Their Keepers left the humans alone so long as they were left alone in turn. Humans apparently didn't like being second best on the planet anymore. The war had been going on nearly fifty years or so. Enough for Altair to have burned through two lives before this one. His Keeper wanted to keep him alive longer than his last life. His memories were carefully controlled. If he knew Desmond he didn't remember and the older angel just acted like they did. It was sort of annoying.

"Ignore him. Wanna go again old man?" he smirked at Malik. Malik wasn't old but Altair took his shots where he could.

Malik made a face. "I thought you might have wanted to fly a course." He shrugged, smacked Altair with his wing, and then leaned a bit closer. "You want to see an old man, just go find Rashid," Malik hissed, but took the invitation for another sparring match.

Desmond didn't like that Altair's keeper was being stingy with his memories. He'd already gone through three lifetimes of Altair not remembering who they, together, were. He understood why, but he was tired of being mated to him in a manner that felt so utterly mechanical. The worst part was that Desmond might not have had a problem with it if he hadn't developed the more human feelings toward Altair before the Ancients returned. And besides, Altair was violent (yet Desmond refused another angel to be paired with).

If he could have slouched, he would have, but instead folded his wings around himself. Well, some lifetimes Altair remembered more, and others less. When he finally remembered everything, Desmond would not let him live it down so easily.

"Honestly I just humor him," Altair said, deflecting a punch Malik threw. "I got more important things to be worried about than some pretty little pet angel," he kicked, Malik blocked and Altair followed it up with using his wings. "Like finishing this training before the assault. I don't want to be kept out."

"He brought all of this back," Malik responded, narrowly avoiding Altair's wing. The edges of his feathers still clipped him. It wasn't like their history was a particularly important part of what they learned or remembered. "But you do have other things to worry about."

He jabbed at Altair with both his fist and his wing, a move that could ultimately decide the outcome. If blocked properly, Malik would be wide open.

Desmond couldn't hear them, but he knew they were talking, and it bothered him. His feathers rose, and he was sure they were talking about him ever since Malik's gaze met his for a few moments. He grumbled. Honestly, he could fight just as well as they could. So he didn't get to spar like they did, not out here, but he still trained - mostly because it kept him from getting outrageously bored.

He looked toward the training weapons, and then back at Altair and Malik. Resolved, Desmond got up and picked a couple of bladed glaives from the racks, and waited patiently out of the way with them. It might have been a little more in his favor with weapons - angels that fought were physical, better with hand-to-hand rather than using tools. It might have been a little cocky for him to pick actual weapons as opposed to the dull, training versions.

Altair blocked, and it was only as he did that he realized his mistake. He'd left his middle open and Malik took advantage of it. Altair was on his back in less than three seconds. Altair groaned, shit that had hurt. He looked up at Malik who had a shit eating grin on his face. "Eat it up old man," Altair grumbled and took the hand Malik offered him. Malik hauled him to his feet. "Never going to be gentle with me are you? You know I'm a delicate flower Malik-" then he saw over Malik's shoulder.

"Careful there," Altair said, looking at Desmond. "You'll hurt yourself," though it wasn't a nice reminder. Desmond was a kept angel who was good at singing, looking pretty, and having babies. Altair thought that while the humans were still trying to fight them that angels like him were useless. Useless angels deserved to be culled.

His feathers bristled even though he knew Altair's attitude was only because he did not know any better. Dealing with those who fought was like dealing with children. Desmond only jerked one of the glaives toward Altair, gaze hard. He couldn't even talk to him about the past - it could affect the blocks set in place.

Malik resisted the urge to whistle - it was plain to see how angry Desmond was. He also refrained from telling the older angel that the emotion would get away from him. While Desmond did not exactly teach weapons, it wasn't as if no one was unaware that he was, at the least, rather skilled.

"Fight me." His Keeper wasn't around to make him heel, and Desmond wanted to work off the frustration more thoroughly than flying - because Altair always made stupid, rude remarks even then. Which he never remembered making.

Altair looked at Malik, he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Yeah sometimes Desmond hung around and bothered him, but he never went so far as to think he could actually challenge Altair. When Malik didn't tell him to say no- because he would listen to Malik. He was a soldier after all, a good one, who listened, even if he was a little cocky- he took the held out pole arm.

He spun it with one hand lazily before stepped back into a fighting stance holding the glaive in both hands. "Okay songbird. I'll fight you. Don't go running home to your Keeper crying when I trounce you though," he smirked.

Desmond closed his eyes, and took a breath, trying to ease the irritating comment and let it slide from him, along with his anger. When he opened them, he'd slipped into Eagle Vision. He tapped Altair's glaive to signal his readiness. A lot of the beginning was feinting. Feeling Altair's response and style out.

Then, he went on the actual offensive, lip drawing back over his teeth as he aimed for Altair's side, pushing with his foremost arm while he pulled with the other to curve the blade through the air.

Altair was there to counter him. To be fair he wasn't the best with ranged weapons like this. He preferred his own hands, or a knife, or a sword even. He didn't like guns, or ranged weapons. What was the point? That didn't mean, however, that Altair couldn't use them. He could use anything you put in his hands.

Once he'd let Desmond have his fun he started to attack. He moved easily between his attacks and kept very purposefully tapping the butt of his glaive to some part of Desmond. Really he didn't want to hurt the angel. He'd get chewed out so hard if he really hurt a Keeper's special pet. But he was also starting to get bored. Desmond wasn't bad. But he wasn't good either. Altair just toyed with him, and would until Desmond admitted defeat. Anyone who was watching them would just see Altair playing with Desmond. He wondered if Desmond knew what he was doing.

Altair's treatment really only served to make him angrier. Desmond snarled and drove the point of the glaive right at his chest. A piece of him knew that was the biggest mistake he could have made, but he could not have cared less. He was frustrated and it was a last ditch effort to be taken seriously.

Desmond couldn't even follow through with it. Whether or not Altair ended up blocking him, he faltered.

Altair saw the attack aimed right at his chest and knew he'd never block in time. Instead his hand shot out and grabbed the glaive, by the blade, stopping it.

He ripped the weapon out of Desmond's hands and in three seconds he had Desmond on his back, using the weapons to unfoot him with a flourish. He put both of the blades up to Desmond's throat. "You stupid or something?" Altair snarled, blood dripping down the length of one of the weapons. "You never go for a killing blow on the training yard," he was so mad he could barely see. Not that death was anything more than a minor inconvenience, but Altair didn't want to miss out on taking down Abstergo and ending this needless human resistance.

Scowling and feeling like a vindictive asshole because fuck that Desmond could have killed him, he flicked one of the glaives and actually marked Desmond's face. "There you go," he sneered, satisfied with the cut on Desmond's mouth. "Reminder of your dumb ass mistake," he said and raised his big dark wings a bit.

"It wouldn't ha-" The blade cut through his lip and he felt his breath hitch, "-ve... connected." Desmond pushed himself up, "Maybe you should think twice before pissing off a 'pretty little pet.'"

He wasn't intimidated by Altair's wings, and even opened his own to match. "It's because of angels like me that you are even around to fight your precious little battles." Desmond folded his wings, tucking the glimmering feathers back out of sight among the rusty reds and blacks. He reached out toward Altair's face, but didn't quite make his goal, which was the stubborn little scar on the other's own mouth.

" _Come back alive,_ Alty." The words were far too old from his bloodied lips, and they were rushed as he felt his Keeper's call in his bones. The pet-name was a slip of his tongue, but it was too late for him to take it back as he jumped into the air and twisted to fly back to them.

Altair stared after Desmond with a frown and turn turned to Malik. "What the hell is his deal?" he asked Malik. "You'd think if he wanted me to remember something he'd fucking say it instead of all his cryptic bullshit," Altair scowled, in a bad mood. But then he had just cut open his own hand and it hurt like nothing else. After all, not even angels were immune to pain.

Malik really only shrugged with his wings. "He's not allowed to interfere with that." Not that others couldn't, it just generally wasn't a good idea. Mostly led to a lot of disassociation, if they were lucky. He grabbed Altair's wrist, opening his hand. "... You didn't have to grab it, you know, he was right about one thing."

He turned his hand a little, tutting. "Let me fix this up." Malik did not give Altair time to protest before pulling him along. Someone else would take care of the discarded glaives. The mere fact that Desmond had gone for a killing blow (whether or not with a battle ready weapon) was a bit unreal. Though it also went to say that the fact that he had faltered and didn't even meet Altair's chest proved that he was either too far removed from fighting and soft, or had no commitment. Malik chose to believe that he was soft.


	2. Mars

Desmond landed on his Keeper’s open balcony with a flutter of feathers. He hoped that he could at least wash his face first - he wanted it to scar. However, sneaking around at over six feet and almost one hundred and twenty pounds of wing and muscle wasn’t the easiest. Especially since Desmond’s feathers always dragged on the ground unless he held his wings higher than they naturally fell.

“Doesn’t matter if he was going to do it or not. Point is he used a killing move on the training area,” Altair said, “If he was going to do something like that then I’m going to treat it seriously and give him grief for it for being a dumb bird,” Altair said as he was led along by Malik to get his wound tended to.

Mars knew when her angel landed as soon as he did so. The song switched off, one she couldn’t even hear herself, but was alerted to it by a readout. She let him do his sneaking around because he’d been down at the angel training academy, again. She told him not to. It just made it harder on him. Honestly it wasn’t like she wanted him to be hurt having to watch his life mate ignore him. He disobeyed at least once a week and she let him. Really he was just doing it to himself. Eventually the war would be over and Desmond could have him back but her angel was so... impatient.

She waited a few minutes, to see if he would just come like she told him. He didn’t. She could hear his feathers dragging along the floor. Then she called, “Desmond, what are you doing?” knowing he’d flich and look towards her office guiltily.

Which he did, without fail before slipping into the bathroom with a series of rapid clicks across the floor. “I want to wash up.”

Desmond cleaned his face, and the cut, wincing a little at the pain. He hissed, and dabbed it dry, pressing on it until it stopped bleeding. He wouldn’t try to hide it from Mars, and she knew not to make a fuss over it even though it would scar his face.

When he came out of the bathroom and went to her, it was more like a guilty slink than an actual stride. Desmond stood outside the office.

Mars looked up from her desk. “There you are,” she said and beckoned him inside. “You did something bad, didn’t you,” she said with a slight grin when Desmond slinked inside, his head down a bit. As he got closer she scoffed, “Desmond, again?” she asked, frowning. “I go through so much work to see you right and now you have that stupid cut on your face again,” she huffed. It was like she couldn’t get rid of it. If one of them had it, the other would shortly after. It drove she and Veles crazy.

Desmond couldn’t help flinching again. “I always have it from him.” He met her eyes briefly, then looked away again. “It isn’t like I went and asked for it,” he continued, self conscious enough to partially cover his mouth. Not having the simple little cut wasn’t bad or wrong exactly, but rather that it just felt a little better when he did have it. Of course, it didn’t make him feel better about disobeying Mars.

Quite the opposite, really. And for the next few days, or possibly even weeks, he’d be the most obedient he ever was to make up for it. Desmond’s wings shuffled, and he looked everywhere in the office that wasn’t her face.

Mars sighed and rubbed her brows. Oh the things she dealt with because of her angel. “Of course you didn’t,” except last time he had and that was so fun to have been explained to. “What did you do?” she asked him sternly.

“I... challenged Altair,” he said with little hesitation. He had learned that it was just easier to tell her what he did rather than try and weasel around it. Desmond fidgeted with the feathers on his arms. “I got angry, he wasn’t taking me seriously and I almost hurt him.”

“ _Desmond_ ,” she said sternly, normally she just overlooked him going to the training academy, so long as all he did was watch. He had his own training sessions with a mentor once a week to keep him entertained. “You challenged him?” she didn’t wait for an answer, “You are not to go to the academy again. Understand? And this time I mean it. I’ll have Rashid keep an eye out for you and if I find you’ve been there,” she didn’t finish her threat. Mainly because she didn’t know what she’d do. She didn’t want or like hurting Desmond but she only had so much patience for his disobedience. She could overlook him going to watch but _fighting_. Absolutely not.

Desmond made a face, but didn’t really voice his objection. She knew that he would rather be fighting beside Altair than waiting to be bred with him - which would probably end up happening before he left. “I understand,” he finally said, albeit grudgingly.

“Good,” Mars said, still irritated with him. “Now go make yourself look presentable and not like you were just in a fight. We’re going out,” she said.

He nodded, “Where? How presentable do I have to be...?” Desmond was a little confused. Usually she’d just leave him, grounded, at home after he went off and did something stupid.

“Its a surprise. I set it up last week and your misbehavior isn’t a warrant for canceling. Now go, we’re meeting important people,” she said and looked back down at her work, a cue that Desmond needed to leave and go do as he was ordered.

Desmond slipped out and went to his given room. He was never quite sure what Mars meant when she said he had to look presentable. Flicking his fingers through his feathers, preening quickly and getting them to lie flat. Some obeyed more than others, and it took a vigorous shake of his wings to really get them presentable.

He hoped that the loose tunic he had on would suffice - he couldn't find any blood stains on it. Besides, the open backed piece fit him well enough, not that there was anything he actually had to cover. Desmond was pretty sure that Mars just liked dressing him in these things.

“Desmond,” Mars called a few minutes later, she was mostly dressed herself and she really hoped he didn’t look too bad. Honestly he’d lived dozens of lifetimes as a human and still somehow couldn’t dress himself. She didn’t know what the hell was the problem. Sometimes it was like having a child. There was a reason she wasn’t with anyone and had no children herself. Her brother had warned her of course, angels were just as bad as children. Not that she could take it back now, Desmond would seek her out every life until she eventually died and he was ‘adopted’ by a new Keeper.

He ended up trading it out for a definitely clean white one with gold threaded filigree. Desmond knew it was one of Mars’s favorites from the whole collection she had either made or bought. He really hoped she wasn’t going to put jewelry on him again when he came to the door at her call.

“Is this good?” Desmond asked.

Mars looked him up and down, “Its satisfactory,” she said because really it was what she would have picked for him. He didn’t look too bad. Still, she frowned, “This though,” she reached for his face and touched his mouth next to his new scar. She could get it fixed, easily. But he’d just go out and either recut himself (she honestly wouldn’t put it past him) or somehow (she didn’t know how but she knew he would) get Altair to do it again. “At least you don’t need a bath,” she said, putting her weight on one foot. “You ready?” she asked.

“Of course,” Desmond said. He was always ready when she was - otherwise, what kind of angel would he be?

“Good, lets go,” she said and pulled out her scarf and wrapped it around her head to keep her black hair contained as she walked towards the door. Honestly she was a weirdo as far as her people were concerned. While she didn’t like humans she found their culture utterly interesting and fascinating. She also liked their clothes. The other proeathans thought she was weird, a freak. But she also had a very important angel and herself was pretty important, so she ‘got away with it’ and it was why people didn’t call her out when she wore dresses that were above her knees.

She grabbed her helmet, clasping it about her throat, and grabbed her keys. “Just keep up and don’t do anything funny,” she reminded Desmond as they entered her garage. Proeathans liked to think they were vastly different from humans, but really their species were very similar. The only real difference was the height and the sixth sense. There were several modes of transport in here but Mars headed for the bike. She put the keys in and the electric engine started to purr. Mars clicked a button on the handlebars and the door drew back so she could drive onto the street.

Desmond mimicked the sound of the engine for a few moments, mostly because it amused him. He honestly preferred to use the bike itself, but they probably weren’t headed for open space. There was plenty of room for angels to fly above the roadways and walkways, and even with a full street, Desmond could see Mars and her bike. In Eagle Vision, she was a warm, more purple kind of blue.

That was how he knew that she was his Keeper, aside from the comforting pull toward her. The only other being that came close to that kind of blue was Altair. Desmond doubted he looked like anything special for him, though.


	3. A Mighty Need

He kept up easily with Mars and her driving, and landed beside her when she parked. Desmond’s wings folded, kept up so that his feathers didn’t drag.

“And here we are,” Mars said, tugging off her scarf and letting her hair out. She reached over and smoothed Desmond’s hair down, it didn’t do much good. Honestly most Keepers just gave up trying to control their angel’s hair. It was pretty much impossible with all their flying and what not. But she still sometimes tried. “Now, I want you to be on your best behavior,” she told him,” and she tugged on his haltered tunic to lay flat. “This is the home of Senator Scamander, so this is important,” she said.

Desmond nodded, letting her preen and fuss with his hair. He couldn’t hold back a soft, happy cooing while she did. “I will,” he said, satisfied for the time. Desmond did not need to know why this meeting was set up, but he would make Mars proud.

“Good boy,” she smiled at him and walked to the door. She rang the bell and a human answered it, “I’m here to see Scamander; he’s expecting me,” she said.

“Come in,” they opened the door and Mars and Desmond came in. The human showed them to where they could sit and Mars sat in a backed chair, hooking one leg over her knee, the skirt of her dress riding up. She was wearing leggings, but an old fart like Scamander would still probably find it scandalous. The fact that Mars was in the position she was in was itself scandalous, but obviously she wasn’t letting that stop her. There were a few stools for angels to sit on, all of them as well padded as Mars’ chair. “I’ll go get Mister Scamander,” the human said, Mars nodded and jiggled her leg a little, she wasn’t good at waiting.

Desmond had his suspicions the moment he smelled the presence of another angel. He did say he’d be good, but he sat with a thud rather than sitting normally. Sure, it was childish, but without speaking it would suffice to say he wasn’t very happy about it.

Scamander entered first, expecting Mars to stand. She didn’t, and his mouth twisted just a bit. “Daniel. I want you to come and meet Mars and Desmond.” He was not very pleased with her attire, but made no comment. He turned, filled two glasses and set one beside her chair, and then sent his human maid to fetch something for the two angels. “Daniel, we talked about this.” That, they had. He knew Daniel was a bit of a loose cannon, and besides that, was one of the most violent when it came to breeding. There were a few different kinds of breeders, and Desmond was one of the few that could deal with that. Of course, both Mars and Scamander were aware of the fact that Desmond was, quite literally, the pickiest angel there was.

“Pleasure, as always, to see you Scamander,” Mars said, though didn’t sound impressed. She was only here because technically the man was man was her superior so she had to make this meeting and come. She knew nothing would come of it but Scamander had insisted. He was convinced Daniel could impress Desmond. She doubted it.

Daniel looked back at his Keeper, “I wasn’t doing anything,” Daniel said, eyeing Desmond in a way Mars really didn’t like. He got really close to Desmond, right up in his space.

“Daniel,” Mars said mildly, “Look with your eyes, not your hands,” she tutted. Daniel gave her a glare. She rose her brows at him. He scowled but moved away from Desmond.

Desmond’s wings flared when Daniel got close. Normally, angels didn’t have such a thing as personal space - they were social, and often rather tactile. He didn’t like Daniel that close, and muttered something under his breath, banking on the fact that Daniel would not really know the old words.

Matchmaking wasn’t usually such an awkward topic, but Scamander knew an irritated bird when he saw one. “I know you told me Desmond was hard to please - I believe those were your words,” he said, really only turning his glass and not drinking from it.

Sitting stock still and avidly refusing to even look at Daniel, Desmond bit his tongue until he honestly couldn’t stand the stupid look he was giving him. “You have eyelids,” he hissed, lip curling a little, “use them.”

"Desmond," Mars said sharply, "I said behave. Don't antagonize him," then she turned back to Scamander and took a little sip of her drink. She did her best to not wrinkle her nose. The humans also did one thing better than them. They had better vices, particularly alcohol, which the proeathans had never mastered like the humans had. Scamander apparently favored the strong human alcohol to the much more mild proeathan variety.

"I did say that," Mars agreed, jiggling her foot a bit. "My Desmond is hard to please. He would have me believe he's completely exclusive," and while she knew Desmond would hate her for this it was something that did happen with some breeders who didn't cooperate. "If you can convince us I'm willing to allow more... extreme force to make him behave," and she sent Desmond a look so he knew not to talk.

Across from Desmond Daniel smiled and showed off his wings a bit. They were brown and black and not pretty really. Not like Desmond's of course. Daniel was a soldier, they rarely had pretty wings. He didn't move them to threaten. He moved them to show off, though he didn't know if it'd do him any good. All Daniel knew was that he liked Desmond already and wanted to bend his wings back and get under that long tunic. All he needed was a word from his Keeper.

“You know where I stand on this. They make a good pair,” Scamander only drank after she did, and spared a glance at the two angels. Really, though, it was up to Mars. He was already decided, and whether or not Desmond agreed did not matter much to him.

Desmond stared at his Keeper. “I will break his arm if he touches me.” It would take a lot for Desmond to even consider, or close his eyes and take it. Apparently, the fact that the proeathan across from her was a superior was not enough. Mars didn’t say that he had to agree. But she also did not say if he had a word in edgewise.

Scamander did not take Desmond’s outburst well, and shot a scathing look at him. To Desmond’s credit though, he did not flinch.

"You will do no such thing," Mars scolded him. "He won't touch you unless I say and if he does I expect you to be good about it. I know your feelings on this but maybe you could actually give Daniel a chance? Scamander was very forthcoming on him. You might actually like him," she said. Really though she wouldn't force Desmond to mate with someone he didn't like.

"Yeah Desmond, I'm not so bad," Daniel said trying to sound nice.

"You two go entertain yourselves. Scamander and I have more to discuss than just your matchmaking. Daniel, if you try anything with my angel I'll have you culled for a few generations," she said seriously. She gave Scamander a look, showing she was serious. Desmond was /her/ angel. Angels didn't mate without permission, because the population was set. Unless there was an angel in the soul reservoir all the fucking in the world wouldn't produce a child. No one was allowed on her Desmond without her express permission.

"Yes, ma'am," Daniel said and got up. He offered his hand to Desmond because he could behave. He would until he didn't have to anymore.

Desmond reluctantly took Daniel’s hand and let him lead him out. The fact that he even touched him was a little surprising. Daniel, when he was ‘human’ really wasn’t that bad - aside from making Desmond swear he wouldn’t talk with the threat of physical violence (honestly Desmond was too busy saving his hide from Bill back then to worry about Daniel’s repressed homosexual tendencies since they actually had sexes then). Of course he wouldn’t remember any of that. None of them really remembered that they ever appeared human.

He tugged his hand back after a while, still rather fickle. “I know you aren’t bad, exactly,” Desmond said. “You just look at me like you are,” he paused, not sure whether he should really ease away from Daniel or not even though he said he would behave. “Which is... normal,” Desmond admitted after a few more moments. Sure, he was trying to see how he could more or less trick the other angel into doing something stupid just so that he’d have an excuse to retaliate. Daniel didn’t need to know that.

Daniel frowned at him, “I’m not a bad guy,” he said, kinda irritated. “You might enjoy this though,” he said and while he didn’t touch Desmond again he did wave his wing at him to tell him to follow.

Really he had very little experience with non soldiers. He very rarely had a successful matchmaking session because he could be kinda... rough. Not that many breeders could handle someone like him and the ones that did were usually already taken and their mates were often freakishly possessive of them. Not that Daniel blamed them. If this went well he wouldn’t want anyone near Desmond either.

His Keeper had really told him what to do basically since he wanted it to be successful too. Daniel knew Scamander wanted it to succeed for political reasons. Mars had few allegiances and for a woman was wildly successful and powerful with an extremely important angel. He had no fuzzy feelings about the fact that some Keepers used their angels the same way humans used to do with their women; marrying them off for alliance reasons. Of course such matings weren’t as permanent as human ‘marriage’ (he thought it was stupid even though the proeathans had a similar institution, Scamander was joined with someone else. But she wasn’t his Keeper; Scamander was) but it could help with alliances.

Scamander had told Daniel to take Desmond to the big garden around the back. Not a place Daniel spent a lot of time, but his Keeper had told him Desmond might like it more than, say, the armory.

Desmond bit back the sound of disdain in his throat, but followed the other angel. In the garden, he was much more interested in looking anywhere but Daniel. It wasn’t really a good way to get to him, and honestly, Daniel wasn’t the most impressive angel he’d seen. “You shouldn’t hope I’m going to say yes or anything.”

It was more that he didn’t want to be mated, but it had been a bit of an outrageous time since he’d last actually had sex. Desmond’s instinct told him that Daniel wouldn’t let him go for the rest of either of their lifetimes, and he didn’t want that.

Daniel smiled a little, “I’m going to remain optimistic your Keeper decides otherwise,” he said. Really though he didn’t want to think about it. Scamander would punish him if he messed this up, maybe even kill him just for embarrassing him by not doing as told. “So, what do you think?” he asked, since if the matchmaking went through Desmond would be staying here for a while. He wanted Desmond to like it; all of it. Him, and his home.

“I think it’s fine. That’s what you want to hear, isn’t it?” He decided he’d at least humor Daniel for a while. However long it took before Mars came and retrieved him so they could go home.

Desmond turned away, moving down the path. He assumed that it was humans that took care of and tended to the plants. It didn’t smell like Daniel even once set foot here since bringing him. Not that it surprised him. “Are you going to go fight when they make the final move on the human organization?” He asked, crouching to look at the flowers.

He could see them just fine standing, but he wanted to pick at the delicate petals. Definitely tended to by human hands. Scamander wasn’t the kind of proeathan to have the patience to, and Daniel wouldn’t have the time to care about anything other than fighting, flying and fucking.

"I hope so," Daniel said, standing behind Desmond patiently and tried not to let what he said get to him. Scamander had told him a lot about Desmond, how he was so picky about who the hell he mated with and that sometimes he went out of his way to start fights with those who had matchmaking sessions with him Scamander had warned him about that. So he wasn't taking a bait. He would behave. "My Keeper has been keeping me close since I passed my final qualifications at the academy though. Have you ever been?"

"Not since I was bred with these feathers. Apparently I just make a better breeder than a fighter." Desmond shrugged. "Someone has to bring you back when you die."

He pushed himself up again, ruffling his feathers. "No one takes a breeder seriously," Desmond said, turning around to actually look at Daniel.

Daniel felt himself swallow and realized he was being tested. He could fuck it all up if he said something wrong here. "I wouldn't know," he said, trying to be careful. "I've had very little," none, "experience with other angel types," he admitted. Then he decided to just get off that subject. "Last life you were a soldier? Do you remember how to fight?" he asked.

Desmond tipped his head. "Of course I remember how to fight." He made a face at him, "You don't forget those kinds of things."

"I wasn't sure, forgive me," Daniel said, "I know some Keepers keep memories more regulated than others," like his. Daniel knew nothing about most if his past lives between his Keepers leaving and them waking. Scamander wanted to keep it that way too. He hesitated a moment and hoped he wanted stepping too far out of bounds since he had very little interest in the garden areas. "Would you like to see the armory? Maybe we could practice together, if you wanted," he moved his wings up and down in a shrug.

He brightened, almost smiling. Desmond hesitated, wings drooping visibly. "I can't. I already disobeyed by doing so today," he grumbled. Usually, he would, but he didn't need another pending punishment. His gaze slid away.

Desmond was tired of waiting. "Okay." He took Daniel's hand, more mindful of his talons this time. "Show me," he said with the almost-smile curving his lips.

Daniel was floored. Looked like he'd done something right. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her," Daniel said and led Desmond back towards the house but not into it. Rather around instead to a secondary, smaller, house. He pushed the door open.

Daniel lived here, rather than the main house. It meant he could make all the noise he wanted against practice dummies or whatever. It was also where the armory was. He veered right once inside to an already open door.

Daniel's armory wasn't anything spectacular compared to the one at the academy but he had a lot of weapons. No firearms or special tech though. Scamander didn't let him near that sort of stuff. "Here we are," he said.

Desmond's excitement was clear through his wings. His feathers rose, and he moved through the racks, "can I handle them?" He asked, fingers twitching as he looked back at Daniel. He looked like a kid in a candy shop, though the analogy would be wasted on both of them.

"Of course," Daniel said. Scamander was going to be so proud of him if he kept this up. Picky angel maybe but Daniel was going to make Desmond his if it was the last thing he did.

He ran his fingers along one of the swords, and picked it up, letting it balance in his hand. Desmond almost sighed, though it came out as more of a low cooing. "Mars is already angry with me for challenging Altair after practice," he said quietly.

"It could be our secret," Daniel said, coming up behind him and brushing his wing against the skin and feathers between Desmond's wings.

Desmond shook his head. "Not a good idea." He put the blade back, standing still until Daniel pulled his wing back. It surprised him somewhat that he wasn't adverse to his touch.

"I'm either a sparring partner or a mate, not both." He knew Daniel was just behaving to get into his clothes but Desmond honestly was sick of waiting for Altair. "I'm tired of waiting for him, and I'd rather have at least one fuck before you're all shipped off."

"Waiting for who?" Daniel asked and hoped he hadn't misstepped.

He blinked, head tipping to the side again. "My life-mate," Desmond said as if it were painfully obvious. "I'm even mad at him for something he can't control." His wings flicked irritably.

Desmond almost hated dealing with warriors too, they weren't allowed a lot of their memories, and it was like dealing with fledgelings that never grew up. Though he'd done plenty of dumb things himself, he was sure he wasn't as annoying to deal with. "Look, whether you want me just because Scamander told you to mate me, or you actually want me because /you/ want me, I know you're just listening to me because of that." He pressed his fingers against Daniel's chin, turning his face to the side slightly. "You don't even really want me, you just want to fuck me," he said, sliding his claws against his jaw.

"I guess you're lucky, because I just want a fuck. And I'm pretty sure Mars doesn't want me with you because she doesn't want to deal with your Keeper." If she couldn't get him near enough Altair, he'd take Daniel. There wasn't really any other choice the way he saw it.

If Desmond hadn't sort of been holding his mouth shut it might have been open a bit. He'd never heard someone say something like that before. Just deconstructed and tore apart what was going on. It was a bit over Daniel's head though.

He did understand one thing perfectly though. "Life mate?" but it wasn't really a question. No wonder Desmond was so picky. His wings fell a little. He'd never be able to compete. Even if it was just sex how the hell was he supposed to go up against Desmond's life mate? Someone he'd sought out through centuries and millennia. It made everything seem sort of hopeless.

Before they could continue though a sharp whistle sounded through their bones. It wasn't Scamander's whistle though. Meaning it was probably Mars'.

"Desmond," they heard her call from outside the house. "Where are you? We're leaving," and she sounded angry. Daniel wondered what Scamander had done. Clearly he had had done set backs with Mars like he had with Desmond. "Desmond!" she called again sharply.

"You should go to your Keeper," Daniel said and took the sword out of Desmond's hand so he could put it up.

A wicked little grin split his lips, and he pressed a shallow kiss against Daniel's mouth. It wasn't unheard of for Angels to do that, but Desmond rarely handed out a mutual touch, nevermind an actual kiss. Then, he slipped past him without so much as brushing his feathers against Daniel, and heeded his Keeper's call.

"He wasn't that bad," Desmond said, though he could tell that whatever Mars and Scamander spoke about ended badly. "His Keeper was, though?"

Daniel stared after Desmond when he left. The sword honestly was nearly about to fall out of his hands. Then he tightened his grip and put the sword away with a private grin (since he rarely smiled, even to himself). That had actually gone really well.

Mars was furious. "He's a lecherous man. We're leaving, right now," she already had her scarf over her hair and the helmet around her neck. "Sorry of you had fun with Daniel but I will not work with this... This... _asshole_ ," the human, English, word was the best one she could come up with at the moment when she was so angry she could barely see let alone think. Normally Mars was as even tempered as her angel, but push her too much and she was as wrathful as the god humans had named after her. If she had enough thought process she knew she could come up with some _spectacular_  vulgarities to call Scamander. But not at this second.

"Go home. I'm taking the long way home," she told Desmond as they walked around the garden to the front so they didn't have to walk through the house. She for on her bike and turned it on. It purred. "If you're not home when I get there I really will discipline you, Desmond," she added. She was in no good mood right now. As she started to pull away from Scamander's house the man himself came out but Mars didn't even look at him and took off, knowing Desmond would go where she'd told him.

He whined, but the sound was swallowed up by her bike, as quiet as it was. Desmond raised and spread his wings, taking off from a stand still.

At home, Desmond waited for Mars to return,  equal parts impatient as he was nervous. Exactly what about, he wasn't sure. He turned his attention from counting time to preening, thoroughly picking through his feathers. It had become part of a nervous habit that, if unchecked, ended up with him plucking feathers from his wings.

The wind had torn Mars’ scarf off her head. Now she had lost her scarf and had had to deal with Scamander. She shut the bike off and went into the house. “Desmond,” she called, feeling angry and frustrated and she just wanted her angel. She headed for her room, stepping out of her boots and flopped down on her bed with an annoyed groan. “Desmond, come here,” she called again, too lazy to use the sounder.

Desmond was there, seeming to appear by her room, aside from the sound of his claws on the floor. He picked up on her turmoil of emotions, and cooed softly, coming up beside Mars’ bed. She did not need him to talk, so he did not speak. Instead, he folded his wings and crouched beside the mattress, folding his arms at the edge of it to rest his head on.

Mars looked over at Desmond, “Remind me to never deal with Scamander again,” Mars told Desmond with an upset frown. She sighed, “Come here,” she said, beckoning him. She liked when Desmond was like this, though he was still long and lean he was much fluffier than usual and she liked cuddling him when she was upset. When Desmond climbed into bed she pressed against him. “So... how was Daniel?” she asked though was hoping he wouldn’t have liked him. She’d told Scamander he could go fuck himself about the matchmaking unless Desmond said yes. “Or... do you want me to get in touch with Veles?” she asked, because Veles meant Altair.

He was quiet for a while, as if sorting through his thoughts. Mars brought up Veles - and thereby Altair - which made him really unsure. “He wasn’t horrible,” Desmond finally said, feathers fluffed. His wing folded against her side. “But of course I want Altair,” he continued, almost grumbling.

“After... the stupid stunt I pulled I don’t think Altair will deal with me.” Desmond touched his lip, which was still a bit sore when he pressed on it. “You told me it was a bad idea to get involved with him while his memories were controlled, and now I’m just angry about it.” His feathers pressed back against his skin. “I think I hate the feeling after it when I know he doesn’t know me more than I hate the thought of being mated with someone else.” He almost didn’t want to say it, but leaving it unsaid would only let it fester.

“Ahg,” Mars pressed her face into a pillow. “This is why I told you to not go to the academy,” she said though she’d always known it was a futile endeavour to do so. “You knew he was just going to ignore you,” she gave him a look, because he did. “I hate to say I told you so; but I definitely told you so,” she said and pushed herself up onto her elbows a bit. “I bet he’d like you more if you weren’t always getting your nose into his business at the academy. Hopefully next time you won’t have to worry about that though,” because then the last, stupid, unnecessary, human ‘resistance’ (because apparently they didn’t appreciate being turned into second class citizens, most of which had more rights than most humans _before_ the proeathans showed up).

She sighed and flopped back down, “So who should I talk to? Scamander, or Veles? Maybe I can convince him to give Altair enough so he knows you.”

“I don’t want it to affect him - I want him to come back alive this time.” He fidgeted, not wanting Mars to have to deal with whatever atrocity Scamander actually was either. “What... happened with Daniel’s Keeper?” Desmond asked.

Mars sighed angrily. “He threatened me,” she said, “with his position, my job,” she was starting to get mad again, “said he had authority to do all sorts of things. And I’m not entirely sure if he could or not. He wants me to do things for him, because of my training, and I told him to fuck off,” she sat up and looked down at Desmond. “His first reaction was to threaten me with a demerit for being your Keeper and well...” she scowled. “I’m sure you can guess how that ended.”

When they’d first started collecting their angels again there was a bit of confusion and backstabbing and manipulation about who got which angel and if they remembered their last Keeper. It was a giant tangled mess that sometimes they still had to deal with since some angels would be manipulated to not remember their full slew of memories. Mars was Desmond’s third Keeper since his first iteration had been born before the fire species war. His first one had been old and died, the second had been murdered; they still didn’t know by who. They’d tried to say Desmond wasn’t hers and being who she was she’d thrown a firestorm (if you would) and made sure everyone knew that Desmond was _her_ angel. Since then no one had tried to even threaten to say he belonged to any other Keeper. Mars didn’t take kindly to others messing with her angel.

Desmond made a soft kind of warble in the back of his throat, and pressed even closer to his Keeper. “You’re _my_ Keeper, I won’t have another.” He wasn’t sure why some proeathans seemed to think that an angel knowing their Keeper was linked to what they remembered when it was more of an instinct to find the proeathan who reflected them, and vice versa.

“I don’t want him using you just because I want to get laid.”

Some aspects of his lifetime as a human ‘avian’ didn’t seem to disappear after all that time.

“Good,” she said to both and ran her fingers through his hair. She knew he liked that. “So should I talk to Veles about Altair’s memories or can you wait? He promised once this was all over that he’d get most of his memories back,” a lot of Keepers omitted large chunks of their angels as ‘human avians’ memories. Just to streamline their learning curve and because most of it wasn’t important. Mars usually let Desmond choose how much he wanted to remember. He wasn’t a soldier so it didn’t matter as much.

“I know that after Altair finishes his last tests at the academy Veles wants you to go over there before the assault,” she didn’t even have to say what for, she knew he knew. “Unless you don’t want to at all? Then I could just ‘stick it’ to the both of them,” she grinned because nothing pleased her more than pulling one over on two old men like Veles and Scamander. Also Desmond had taught her some human slang and she liked when she found an excuse to use it.

“I really just- I need a fuck, no strings attached, none of the politics.” Desmond sighed, eyes half closed. “And even when Altair knows he shouldn’t get totally bent if I’m with someone else once.” He’d long since come to terms with the fact that Altair never really offered back what he gave to him. That was just how he was.

“It’s just a pair for offspring because the able, mature angels are being sent off.” He didn’t intend to stay anywhere else but Mars’ home for any length of time outside of actually fucking. Even though Desmond understood it, he wasn’t as resolved as he sounded. As a breeder, his body had needs, just as a fighter didn’t have the time for those needs, but to him, Mars was more important than that. And he knew the issues she had to deal with to some level.

“Hmmm,” Mars said, still running her fingers through Desmond’s hair which was more like little feathers similar to the ones on his skin but softer and finer. “I have some people I can contact,” she said. “Not Veles and not Scamander because I’ll be damned if I give him what he wants,” which was of course Desmond and getting to brag about his angel being with one of the pickiest breeders in the soul reservoir. “Unless... you like Daniel?”

The feathers on his head rose after being pressed down by her hand, and he’d been making a soft, enjoyable noise up until Mars asked if he actually liked Daniel. Desmond’s silence was as much an answer as any, but he did end up speaking. “I... yeah, a little,” he said, and pretty much every feather on him pressed against his skin.

Mars couldn’t help it, she sighed. She also pulled her hand from his hair and flopped back down on her bed, face up. She crossed her arms over her chest feeling annoyed. “So, I’ll talk to Scamander,” she said, though clearly wasn’t excited about it.

Desmond whined a little, leaning his face against her shoulder. “It only has to do with Daniel.” He didn’t want it having anything to do with anything else at her expense.

Mars made an annoyed noise, not at Desmond, more just about how the hell she was going to do this so Scamander wouldn’t ‘win’. “Scamander’s sending Daniel on the assault,” she said, “Apparently people have been talking and calling him soft handed with him. I could set it up so it’s right before it starts and all soldiers have to report for deployment,” which would be a few weeks before the actual assault itself. Mainly to get everyone into proper fighting shape if they weren’t and make sure they all worked well together and just logistics shit. “Can you wait a week or so?” since then Daniel might get one, maybe two chances with Desmond before he had to leave, definitely not enough time for a firsty like Daniel who, to Mars’ knowledge, had only been with a breeder once; for past aggression.

He nodded, trilling low in his throat. As long as Mars didn’t stress over it, he wouldn’t feel as bad about it. Desmond didn’t like putting her in a spot, nevermind the rock and a hard place that was Scamander and twisted politics.


	4. Why Would I Want That?

It would be weeks still before able soldier-type angels would have to report in if they had not been around the academy regularly. The place itself was more like a barracks, and some Keepers let their angels stay there if they pleased. Where nearly all of them had their memories restricted, what they had an abundance of was autonomous decision within reasonable, militant parameters.

Which, in itself, was actually rather simple - fighters really only did just that; a lot of sparring. On average they were well behaved, and respected the proeathans, especially their Keepers and commanding officer. There was little time to even consider sex, though plenty was known to relieve stress with a non-conceiving fuck. Personally, Malik believed it was a waste of time without a breeding partner, but it was definitely better to nip the curiosity in the bud before it distracted the younger trainees.

In all honesty, it wasn’t a decision for Malik to make, since he wasn’t exactly a teacher. Then again, there wasn’t exactly a need for instruction, because the knowledge and tools were all there as long as a memory block functioned as intended. He mostly just kept the younger angels from letting their sparring matches slip from practice to play, but even then, two play-fighting angels could turn around and just as easily decimate a human squad. And probably still have just as much fun doing it.

Probably not the best, but as long as there was little actual violence between angels, between fighters or otherwise, it made little difference how thin the line they walked was.

Malik’s temper had been trained out of him, or that was what his Keeper said. Tempers weren’t trained out of angels, they were just controlled within the walls of the Civilization. Out there, against their targets, they fought like animals. An organized pack of intelligent animals, but still just about as ruthlessly as it were.

With a tray full of food for himself, and a second balanced on his upper arm so that he could grab up a canteen that was honestly more like a large jug, Malik navigated the loud and busy cafeteria. It was a right mess hall, similar in a way that he couldn’t place, but assumed was just from his previous incarnations. The place was almost a mirror plan - if not built to compensate a lot of large sets of wings - to the one that once stood in its place under the collapsed, human, Assassin Order. Altair usually trained into their allotted lunch, and Malik ended up bringing food for the both of them outside more often than not.

The kid had a lot of drive, but doing all of that wouldn’t make his hand heal any faster. Malik was real close to literally hog-tying him.

Altair looked down at his hand. It still hurt. Malik had told him if since he’d done it to make such a stupid point he wasn’t allowed to get it looked at and healed up. Instead Malik had just disinfected it and wrapped it. Thankfully their kind healed quickly, quicker than humans at least. Accelerated healing was a blessing in the battlefield so that minor injuries didn’t affect them like it did humans. After making sure it’d heal without effecting his grip or weaken his hand he’d been left to heal naturally instead of nearly instantly with a med station. The cut had scabbed over and even at just a few days it was almost healed up. By next week all this cut would be would be a scar. He flexed his hurt hand, to keep the skin limber, but it still hurt. At least it he’d grabbed it with his off hand.

He heard someone coming up to him and looked up. The Sword in his left hand lowering. He’d wondered where Malik had gone. His stomach growled abruptly, seeing that Malik had brought food. He didn’t even notice he was hungry until he saw it. He looked at the plate Malik was carrying like a normal man would a woman... he guessed. He’d never thought about having another angel like that. He’d heard some older angels talk about their mates like that though, the ones who had them. The analogy didn’t really work since all angels were avian. He didn’t know why he’d even thought of that analogy, it didn’t make any sense.

He had a very confused look on his face when Malik finally came up to them, befuddled about why he’d even thought about differentiating genders. Genders were things that happened to proeathans or humans, not angels. He made himself focus when Malik got closer and licked his lips, still insanely hungry. “Please tell me one of those plates is for me,” he said, not even looking at Malik, but was staring at the plates in his arms.

“Not if you keep opening up the stupid cut on your hand, it won’t be,” Malik responded. He didn’t quite walk all the way to Altair, and sat himself down by the rack of training weapons. “Birdbrain.”

One of them was clearly for him though, since he set the other tray on the ground. “You should stick to using your hands - sure, they make us carry weapons, but you’re much more proficient without them,” he said, not bothering to look up from his food. What he said was true though, aside from it being less agitating for the cut on Altair’s hand, and where Desmond had been pretty good with the glaive, Malik was rather well to do with it, and was even better with a sword in his hand. Altair was pretty masterful with whatever he was required to use, but Malik was unsure whether or not he noticed how his skill lagged with the nearly three day old cut.

“It’s bleeding again, isn’t it. You know it will only scar worse the more you fuck around with it.”

“It isn’t,” Altair said stubbornly, it wasn’t, it was just sort of red. He went over to Malik and hunkered down. He just ate with his hands, they ate mostly ate food you could eat with your hands. He knew house angels might eat with utensils but in the academy it was all hand food, or even if it wasn’t you still used them. “And it wouldn’t if you’d let me heal it at a med station,” he said and pushed a mouthful of sticky rice into his mouth.

Malik shrugged with his wings. “You have had plenty of times to go on your own. Since when have you actually listened to anything I have to say?” He cast him a glance, and then resumed eating, pausing only to drink from the uncapped canteen. Licking his fingers, Malik sat back a little more, wings half folded. “Don’t worry about whether or not you’ll be going on the mission - I don’t think even Daniel fucking something up would keep him off of the task,” and Daniel had a knack for committing absolutely royally fucked up offenses.

“I dunno,” Altair said and looked at his cut again, “I just haven’t,” and he wasn’t sure why. He just felt like he shouldn’t. Well, not shouldn’t. More like he deserved it for... something? He wasn’t quite sure what compelled him to not go to a med station but he knew it wasn’t Malik. He wasn’t about to admit that though. “And I listen sometimes,” he pouted even as he sucked kitfo off his fingers.

He snorted at the mention of Daniel, “That guy might as well be a house angel,” and smooshed the rice and kitfo together and popped some into his mouth with a grin.

Capping the canteen, Malik nudged it over to Altair, still picking handfuls from what little was left on his plate. “He isn’t bad with the firearms, but aside from roughing up his partners, he’s pretty soft,” he mused midst picking at his teeth with one of his talons.

“Veles gonna mate you off in the next few weeks? I’m hoping I can get a nice, soft partner, at least.”

Altair grimaced, “I don’t see the point of it,” he said. “Honestly the entire thing is just messy and awkward,” or at least it had been for Altair. But then maybe it was because he’d only been with other soldiers. All in all there was nothing soft about soldiers. They were known to be hard and unforgiving and it hadn’t been exactly... pleasent. Not terrible, but Altair didn’t know why he’d do it again. Maybe it would be different with a breeder but Altair didn’t see how, angels all looked the same physically more or less with only varying degrees of difference.

He took a sip from the jug, it was basically sugar water but tasted like berries. Or at least the COs had told them that. Angels had harder times tasting sweet things, so it was more mild than if a human had drunk it. “But no, he hasn’t,” he shrugged. “Though,” he said thoughtfully, “he’s been kinda weird lately when I see him, like he’s expecting a message from someone. I’m not sure who though,” he shoved the last bites of rice into his mouth and started on the last of the kitfo.

“All you’ve had is what’s around - I keep forgetting you haven’t bred anyone yet this cycle,” Malik laughed, batting Altair with the wrist of the wing between the both of them. “Believe me, you’d love a sweet little breeder. They don’t try to rip your cock off. Or argue about who’s gonna take it.” He pushed himself back to his feet, hopping a bit. “‘Cause they’re made for it.”

He was astutely aware that the only real differences between the pets and them were their feathers, and where they appeared, and though he tried not to get lulled into the idea that they were really only ‘soft’ or ‘gentle, fluffy, little breeders,’ it was pretty hard. “You better not tell any of them that, and you better respect them because your dick really doesn’t feel that comfortable. In any hole.” Malik stared down at Altair, then stooped to pick up his tray.

Altair frowned at him, “I still think you’re crazy,” Altair said, “Hey!” he complained as Malik went to scoop up his tray and quickly grabbed the last morsel before it got out of reach. He popped the last bit of seasoned meat into his mouth and sucked on his fingers. “I don’t want to deal with any little house angels,” he pouted.

“You do,” Malik answered, stopping to turn and look back at him. “Or rather, that does.” He tapped Altair with his foot, motioning toward his crotch. “Get up, I’m not taking the canteen back, you are.” He did not wait to see if Altair would pick it up and come along, he just turned and began heading back to the cafeteria.

Altair sighed and picked the canteen up. “I don’t even like house angels,” he complained and took a sip of the jug. Though really the only house angel he’d ever known was Desmond. He didn’t exactly dislike Desmond but he also wasn’t Altair’s favorite angel. More he just sometimes freaked Altair out by always hanging around and staring at him during training and re education. Altair didn’t like him around because Desmond sort of... stressed him out and made him even more intense than usual, and not always in a good way. He didn’t know exactly why though and honestly wished Desmond’s Keeper would keep him the fuck away.

Malik didn’t respond, just walked back into the building to deposit the trays and find someplace quiet to rest until courses began in the afternoon. He had his own things to deal with, and picking through Altair’s feelings about other angels wasn’t on the top of his list. “You going home after training?” He asked, looking over at Altair.

“No. Veles told me to stay here unless he called,” Altair shrugged and took another sip from the jug. “I want to do this,” because he was excited about it. “Sooner they start the assault the sooner I get to fight for real again,” because this would be his first real combat this life.

He had plenty of experience from his past lives and one of his favorite kills was actually when he was a human-avian. It had just been... so satisfying. He couldn’t remember all the details but he remembered literally clawing someone’s face off to protect someone. Someone important to him.

“And the sooner I can get all my memories,” because he wanted those too. He wanted to remember. He wanted to know what he should know in addition to fighting and maybe also why Desmond sometimes gave him super dirty looks.

“I think a lot of us want that,” Malik said, still walking. “Come on, let me see your hand.” He grabbed Altair’s wrist and pulled him along, out of the cafeteria, and kept going until it wasn’t nearly as loud or busy.

They ended up somewhere near the dormitory building, and that was when Malik finally turned back to Altair and examined his palm. He tilted his hand, left, right, and then nudged the edge of the still angry mark with the pad of his thumb. “I meant what I said about using weapons though, you’ll just tear it up. It won’t mean much, but you have to be next to flawless when we are actually deployed.”

There wouldn’t be much time until the song was sounded to resume courses, re-education or training, and the anticipation of hearing it almost thrummed in Malik’s bones.

Altair frowned, “Fine,” he said, “I’ll let off on it. Though I’ve been trying to let it heal on its own, just using my strong hand,” though angel soldiers didn’t really have a ‘strong’ or ‘off’ hand. They were all ambidextrous. But your ‘strong’ hand was usually just the one you had a preference for, nothing more than that. Altair preferred his right hand, but he usually fought with his left leading because it made him have to be better than if he relied on his strong side. It meant he was great with his left and flawless with his right.

“You don’t have to baby me Malik. I’m not a fledgling. I lost my downy a long time ago,” he added to Malik. Malik was his mentor, an older angel who helped younger ones remember what they needed to and helped them in general, not like a nanny; more like a drill sergeant in place of their actual instructors between major training blocks.

He let go of Altair’s hand with another shrug, then reached out to clap his shoulder. “I know. I was there.” Malik fixed him with a grin, then shoved. It wasn’t a harsh push, but it wasn’t a tiny little nudge either.

The call to bring them back to their stations sounded, and Malik groaned. Recently, he was helping Rauf out with the last of their youngest, and the older angel always wanted him there early. He thought it was to keep him as tidy and punctual as always, as irritating as it was. Though if they were expected to be militant and organized, someone had to enforce some kind of rules without relying on the siren songs.

Malik didn’t bother with a full farewell, it was more of just his wing against Altair’s side as he turned and left.


	5. Play Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me and Hex really love Adha  
> wow  
> Adha  
> so adorbs

Adha hummed as she knocked on Mars’ front door. As always she was perfectly behaved (which was more than she could say for Desmond) and only went out when Ogoun had told her she could go. He’d arranged for this ‘play date’ with Desmond. Really it was just an opportunity for them to both complain about their lives and mates; more specifically about Altair and what a giant idiot he was.

She had her cream and shiny golden wings tucked up behind her as she waited for Desmond or Mars to get the door since Mars didn’t have human maids or butlers. Except for cleaning people who came by once a week to make the house spotless.

Desmond tittered happily when he opened the door, wings half flapping behind him. He’d been excited for Adha’s visit, and all but pulled her in. “Adha,” he smiled, just about singing. He called her by the older sound of her name, glad that he had someone he could talk to that actually knew the oldest words and the past in general.

He brought her to his room, where the bed was more of a nest, and what wasn’t housing the clothes Mars got him was either displaying some kind of weaponry or plant. Mostly, it was because the flowers smelled good, and gave him something to do. Desmond let Adha settle a bit before he began preening her wings, focusing on the feathers on her back.

Preening was much more common, and if given the time, one of the first things most angels did when sharing each other’s company. Often, Desmond talked, and he was nonetheless chatty today. “Mars is trying to do matchmaking for me,” he was saying while he picked through the light, soft feathers between her wings, “but I don’t... know what I want.”

Adha twittered while Desmond ran his fingers through her feathers. “Well that’s good,” she cooed and reached to her side to squeeze Desmond’s leg. “And what do you mean? Isn’t she calling Veles?” and when she said it she said it a bit wistfully. Ogoun and Veles currently weren’t on good terms and she probably wouldn’t get to see Altair until one of them died. Though she was getting tired of Ogoun, he was getting mean. She didn’t like having a mean Keeper. Next life she promised herself she’d think about finding a woman like Desmond had. Woman Keepers seemed nicer. “You know he’ll come around Desmond. He doesn’t remember me either and I had that ungrateful avian’s baby the first time,” meaning back when she was a human-avian.

He heaved a sigh, acting like it was a bigger one than it was. “I know, it still makes me angry, and I could have a chance to at least get a halfway decent fuck without all the crap attached to it.” Desmond ran his hands against Adha’s feathers until they laid flat again, and moved to sit by her so he could start on her wings.

“I told Mars that I don’t know if I can stand it again. Altair kind of died a lot, you know.” And by default, so did he - which set back breeding a little bit, but he was one out of a bunch of them. Mars had stopped him from doing anything stupid the last time, but to make up for it, Desmond had spent as much time as he could getting somewhere near Altair. The bastard was cute as hell when all he had was fluff on his wings.

“Well if you want that you know a soldier won’t help you there,” Adha said with a roll of her eyes. She offered Desmond more of her wing while starting on parts that she could reach, like on his legs. “Honestly most of them don’t even know where to put it it’s so sad it’s almost funny,” she giggled. “If you’re so anxious,” she ran her hand on Desmond’s thigh, “we could,” because where soldiers didn’t know how to fuck it was all breeders did.

She’d seen two soldiers go at it once. She’d laughed at them afterwards because it was sort of like watching cats rut. There was nothing... pleasant about it. Soldiers were so dumb too and most of them were virgins. The ratio between the types was skewed harshly in favor of the soldier caste and all the variety of types in it. Like the soldiers and the heavies and the terras and many others that were only bred during times of war. Once the humans were fully dealt with the ratio between them would level out so it’d almost be one to one instead of one to nearly twenty. Most of them never mated with a breeder, or if they did not long enough for anything to happen.

On the other side angels like her and Desmond were supposed to be good at sex. And they had it a lot. Desmond less than others for sure but that was his own problem. Adha was also Altair’s life mate (unlike humans or even proeathans angels could have multiple partners that spanned dozens of reincarnations) but unlike Desmond she wasn’t so hung up on him. She blamed his last life as a human-avian. Adha would take care of just about anyone. Except ones that roughed them up. She didn’t like pain and didn’t tolerate her mates hurting her on purpose or accident. Desmond could take it but she was fairly small for an avian and would claw them up if they were too rough.

“I know you have all those _human_ emotions about Altair,” she tried not to judge but really he should just do whatever he could to purge those memories in his next lives. They got in the way. “But he’s so horrifically unavailable. And you know he’s going to suck,” not even literally either. Stupid soldiers. “It’d be fun,” and while she was a good girl who _usually_ obeyed her Keeper, sometimes he just _begged_ to be disobeyed.

He’d stopped preening her, and just pressed his face against the cream and gold feathers. Desmond made a strangled sound and jerked back when he realized he was starting to tug on Adha’s wing. It was something about how she said that, how it would be fun, and he wasn’t thinking about Altair or Daniel.

Desmond shuffled his wings. “You don’t mean messing around with me, do you?” He wasn’t exactly nervous, but his feathers twitched. “Keep it up and I’m gonna end up switching,” Desmond continued, and tapped his temple. Even if it would only be a change in his mindset, it would affect his body and temperament for weeks, and totally negate any chance of mating with anyone.

“You’re the one complaining,” she said, “I’m simply making myself available. That and I know Ogoun would be so mad if I was anything more than friends with Mars’ angel,” her laugh was an amused trill. She tugged her wing from his grip, really she’d just preened with someone yesterday, there was nothing to do. Instead she lay down on Desmond’s bed.

“So if you don’t want to. What’s the matter? No doubt Mars is going to call Veles eventually and you’re going to get our little virtuous soldier to at the very least make an attempt.”

Desmond let out a breath that he had not been fully aware he was holding. “I want to do something that will make him feel at least a little guilty when he finally remembers - because memory or not, on purpose or not, he hurts me. Like the rest of them, he uses me but he doesn’t even try to hide it.”

He tugged his legs up, holding his knees, and his wings ended up half folded around him. “At least Daniel didn’t look at me like a broken tool the whole time,” Desmond growled.

Adha sat up abruptly. “ _Daniel_?” she asked, she knew Daniel, or at least had known him before he’d been culled for being too aggressive. She knew his mother. “You’re going to mate with _Daniel_? Desmond, I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” she frowned. “You know Altair cares about us. It isn’t fair to blame him because you choose to remember from your last human life. He doesn’t know any better,” they both knew Desmond was being petty. Or Desmond better _realize_ he was being petty. Because he was.

“I know. It’s like wanting to pull my feathers, I can’t help it. And it’s not just the human memories, I’ve only had a different partner three times.” Desmond closed his eyes. “It might make things a little harder on Mars... but she won’t have to deal with Scamander if I do take your offer.”

He opened them and glanced at her. “I’m the only one who probably can take Daniel’s violence.”  Honestly, Desmond was weighing the options. Piss off Adha’s Keeper and pretty much kiss any chance of seeing her until the old jerk died goodbye, or wait a while longer and have to deal with another encounter with Altair’s amnesia, which always reminded him of the time he almost lost his fucking mind trying to bring him back, or Daniel. The worst thing was, Desmond didn’t mind getting hurt.

"Just because you can doesn't mean you have to," Adha said and leaned over to him she wrapped her wings around him. "You don't have to have sex with jerks," she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder. "Like I've told Ogoun that if someone hurts me I'm ripping it off," and she meant it too. "He makes sure I get nicer mates," though really soldiers were only so nice.

"We both know you deserve someone who will make you feel good. And that Altair /won't/ but neither will Daniel," she cooed in concern.

She liked Desmond and knew all his woes basically. She was one of his friends, and knew where he was coming from more than others. She'd really liked Altair too. Last life she only got a chance with him after Desmond had, literally right before Altair had been shot in the head during an ambush. The both of them had bitched about it for weeks afterwards since Altair _had_  remembered them that life. Now he didn't because Veles wasn't letting him. So all they could do was wait.

"Ask Mars to arrange for someone nice. Maybe," she sat up a little, the fine feathers on her head flaring up a bit, "someone older. Who's mated previously so they aren't so _awful_  in bed. Trust me, you don't want a dumb soldier," and she knew from experience. Adha had had plenty of mates other than Altair. All the fresh soldiers were awful. Ones who were older knew how and actually made it kinda nice. Though her best time had been with another breeder. "Or maybe a breeder," she said. "Soldiers are so... Awful," she sighed and sort of laid down across one of his shoulders.

Desmond really only grumbled, slouching as much as his wings would allow, which wasn’t much. “I know they are,” he muttered, feathers twitching. “It’s only because of the fighting, the humans.” And if humankind was anything, it was stubborn. Irritatingly and unfailingly so.

Still, he sulked about it, and was intent on doing so until it was all out of his system.

“Yes,” Adha agreed, “And soon it will be over and there won’t be so many but we’ll still have to deal with them,” she sighed and leaned back. “Frankly other than hitting things the entire caste is absolutely useless. Without us they wouldn’t even exist and they exist for no other reason that to hit stuff, sometimes that stuff includes us,” she made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat. “I don’t know how you deal with it Des,” she said. She didn’t understand _why_ he let them hurt him sometimes. She sure as hell didn’t allow it. Even if it was Altair she’d sooner beat him with her wings rather than let him hurt her.

“Because I’m just as much one of them as I am a breeder,” He said quietly, not quite able to look at her. Desmond flopped forward, half curling into his nest of a bed. “Do you... think it was a bad idea? Waking them up...?” His voice was a little muffled, face partially obscured by a pillow probably stuffed with his own fluffy down (why not make use of it, when he had it, there was a shitload to dispose of anyway). He turned his head to look back at her, tucking his chin somewhat.

Adha wriggled down beside him, “Do you think it was?” she asked back, “ _Like better than tree living_ ,” she cooed in the old human-avian tongue. “ _Dryskins had easy. Feathers not much. Hard_ ,” she frowned. Personally she liked having a Keeper and being important to someone though they were starting to not appreciate her as much anymore. “I like now more,” she rubbed her face and wing against Desmond.

“I don’t know, that’s why I asked,” Desmond muttered, huffing. He wasn’t as tense when she touched him. “Your Keeper is a royal asshole... and they’re just using the fighters like the humans used us - they’re better at it, they know what we need, but they’re... just like them.”

“We are what we were created to be,” she reminded him. “You know why they made us. It wasn’t to be cute and cuddly. It was to fight, and to keep their slaves in check,” of course humans weren’t slaves now. They were allowed to do whatever they wanted so long as they left the proeathans alone. If they wanted to live in their city they could, but they were reduced to ‘second class citizens’ and could only get certain jobs. Proeathans paid more than most human cities though. The humans had ruined the Earth and themselves while the proeathans were gone, most of the world had gone to ‘hell in a handbasket’ as they used to say and humans were on the ropes all over the world. “I don’t know why you fight so hard against what you are when before you fought so hard to become this.”

He didn’t respond aside from turning his face completely into the pillow. Desmond shook his head, groan muffled. “There’s nothing else, I guess... that’s it.” He pushed himself up, all the way to his feet.

Desmond shook himself out completely, his wings flapping and feathers rustling. He settled down beside Adha again, cooing wordlessly while his feathers also settled.


	6. All Over You

Desmond didn’t need to take much to Scamander’s. He had a second tunic, but neither of them were his best, or Mars’ favorite. In the end he had, against Adha’s words, decided to agree to be paired with Daniel. As long as it wasn’t the worst thing to happen to him, and Adha hadn’t flicked the hormone switch in his body over the time they spent cuddling and preening.

Mars had come home that day to find Desmond and Adha more or less entwined in a bed of their feathers, trilling and cooing at each other.

He stopped by her office, mostly just to let her know that he was going, and then he flew off from the open balcony, holding his little bag of few things to his chest. Desmond didn’t land in front of the proeathan residence, he went straight for the garden courtyard because he wanted to keep interaction with Scamander to the absolute minimum. If things went well, he could get what he wanted from Daniel within one or two days, and be gone just as quickly.

Daniel knew when Desmond landed as soon as he did. When Mars had told Scamander Desmond would be coming by the other day he’d been anticipating his arrival. He was waiting and excited. But was also incredibly nervous. He’d never done anything like this before, not for a few cycles at least.

He poked his head out of the door of his little house when he caught the bare whiff of Desmond. He licked his lips and slid out, he knew Scamander was probably aware that Desmond was here, or that he would be around. Scamander told him he’d leave them alone since a condition of Mars had said for her to let Desmond come over was that Scamander couldn’t interact with her angel.

So he’d... get Desmond all to himself. His heart beat spiked a bit thinking about that. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous though. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself. “Desmond,” he called and slid out from around the door.

He shook out his wings, then folded them. “Daniel.” Desmond moved toward him and the door, stopping a few feet short. “You’re nervous,” He said, “It’s almost cute.”

Daniel’s wings fluffed out and he frowned. He didn’t know how he felt about being called ‘cute’. He was a soldier and was ferocious and a warrior. Up this close Daniel could smell more than just Desmond on the other angel. His frown deepened. “Why do you smell like another angel?” now his wings fluffed up in annoyance, even anger. He knew Desmond had a life mate but he didn’t like the idea of someone else being that close to Desmond.

Desmond almost scoffed. “It’s another breeder, you can’t tell? Let me make a few things clear,” His eyes narrowed, lip curling back just a little. “You are a breeding partner, nothing more than that. You have no place ordering me or hurting me, and I will attack you in return.”

The scowl on his face melted, hiding his irritation. “I know for a fact you haven’t had a partner in a while, stop acting tough.”

Daniel deflated a bit, his wings sagging. “Right,” he said and swallowed a little, realizing maybe he was a bit over his head. Despite that though he didn’t want Desmond to leave. Scamander had told him explicitly to not mess this up. He’d do whatever he had to to make sure their meeting went over well.

“So,” Daniel said, slightly awkwardly before using his wing to push open the door, “come in.”

And he did, feathers brushing lightly against Daniel as he passed. Desmond let Daniel lead him and show him around. He decided he didn’t like doors, and he didn’t like the small windows - not enough light. Daniel’s nervous awkwardness was nearly palpable, and it amused Desmond. “What are you afraid of?” Desmond asked, breaking the silence.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Daniel said, of course he wasn’t. Much less he was afraid of some breeder. The only thing he really feared was Scamander’s punishments.

Desmond tsked, gaze flicking over to him. “No one likes a lying, violent ass,” he murmured, reaching out to run his fingers against the feathers on Daniel’s chest. His arms were mostly bare, with a small collection of feathers in contrast to the layers on Desmond’s. They rustled and fluffed out when he slipped into Eagle Vision, making the golden feathers in his wings, and the lines on his arm shimmer.

Really, it was like flashing some glitter and all the duller warriors wanted to think about was you. It worked well enough, and let him see clearly when or if Daniel would end up trying to hurt him - although if he was honest, he was just about as easy to read as the wind without the help of the sixth sense.

“I’m not lying,” Daniel said. He wasn’t afraid he was just... nervous. It had been a while since he’d mated with someone, though he didn’t really know how long. His first few cycles after the proeathans came back were extremely short and violent but all he remembered was the fighting and if there had been any fucking he didn’t remember. Except the time he’d been culled for it when he nearly had killed the angel who was supposed to be his mate.

His feathers stood up in interest when Desmond started to shimmer. “Shiny,” he said, sort of dumbly and he knew it. All angels were so susceptible to shiny things though. He liked his shiny feathers and marks on his arm.

Desmond’s laugh was more of a rough trill. “Isn’t it?” He held out his wings, the glow more or less pulsing with his heart. It wasn’t always a good thing that he liked being looked at and appraised for being... well... pretty. Especially when he rejected mates that weren’t Altair. This was new, and he wanted it, and he liked Daniel staring at him this time.

“Maybe I’ll let you have one.”

A thought in the back of Daniel’s mind trickled towards the front. One was that he was insanely jealous of whoever the hell Desmond’s life mate was. The other was that he wouldn’t mind throttling that avian to further his own chances with Desmond.

Tentatively he reached out and brushed one of Desmond’s large golden primaries with his finger. He looked up abruptly when Desmond said he could have one. “Really?” he asked, interested significantly.

“Later. It’s a prize, not a gift,” because the angel he usually gave the feathers to didn’t have the time to care, or remember what they meant. Desmond snagged Daniel’s mouth in a brief kiss. The first day was almost always a lot of kissing, preening and touching until both party’s hormones were at peak.

The feathers on Daniel’s head went up some. Okay, he could like this. He wasn’t good at it he kinda knew that, but he didn’t think he was awful either. “So,” he said slowly, “If I’m good I get a gold feather?” he asked, because he could be good.

Desmond curled his fingers through his feathers, claws lightly scratching over his scalp when the feathers rose. “Something like that,” he cooed, pulling his hand away from Daniel’s head. He knew which places to touch, and how to treat them, but he was all too aware that Daniel would be fumbling through it. Adorable, but taxing.

“Okay,” Daniel said and promised himself he’d be on his best behavior, one so Desmond would want to come back, and two cause he wanted one of Desmond’s pretty golden feathers. “Ah, this way,” he said, he wanted to be confident here but he was painfully aware that Desmond knew way more about what was going to happen and how than he did. He just didn’t know how to do it without... fucking it up really.

At the least he showed Desmond to his room where he slept. His bed was on the ground and big, sort of set into the ground so it really looked like a nest. It was covered in pillows and some blankets, most of the pillows stuffed with his old down from his cycles. Daniel prided himself for having a very comfortable bed. Better than what he’d gotten to sleep on at the academy that was for sure. He sat on it and felt more comfortable now. His nest was familiar and smelled like him. He wanted Desmond to smell like him too.

Desmond settled down by Daniel, leaving his things at the edge of the bed. He pulled one of Daniel’s wings out so he could preen him. Daniel wasn’t too unkempt, but he was far from immaculately clean like Adha had been. A low, almost purring sound filled his chest as he focused on the task before him.

Daniel stiffened when Desmond grabbed his wing but then relaxed. He didn’t spend a lot of time with other angels. When Desmond started preening him he sagged as much as he could. He liked that. He let his limb go a bit limp so he could enjoy it. He should do the same, right? But he felt weird if he just started touching Desmond.

Man, he was awful at this.

He really could not sit comfortably in any way without spreading his wings in one way or another, and it often showcased the golden feathers among the usual, more colorful feathers Desmond had. Moving closer to Daniel, he extended one wing for him.

There was a line between being tactile and being violent, and Desmond had to remind himself to pay attention to that. He had told Daniel he wouldn’t stand for being hurt, and he had to keep true to that.

If he was waiting for an invitation Daniel didn’t know a better one. He started to preen Desmond’s wing, though within a few seconds realized he didn’t have to. He frowned a little, annoyed. Whoever was that scent all over him had basically groomed him perfectly. Some of the feathers on his arms rose up since he could smell them on Desmond and didn’t like it. Then he reminded himself that they were just a breeder. They weren’t important. He managed to force his feathers to settle down. He didn’t see a point in grooming perfect feathers so he just settled for petting Desmond’s wings.

Daniel’s emotions were as obvious as the sunrise, and Desmond found no end to his amusement. “I told you not to worry about it.” He didn’t mind that Daniel took to just petting him - they were still hands, still warm, still touching him, and he liked that better than nothing.

Desmond moved away from his wing and leaned his head against Daniel’s shoulder, feathers rising and then pressing back. “You’ll end up covering it up in a little while anyway.” He’d just spent an entire day cuddling with Adha, yet he still couldn’t keep to himself. Hell, Desmond was practically begging Daniel to run his hands over his feathers. He was trying to be wary about how he acted though, to avoid exciting him too much before he was ready.

Daniel’s feathers flared up again, this time from interest. “Yeah I will,” he said seriously. He was looking forward to that. He wanted Desmond to smell like him when this was over and any other angel who came across him would smell Daniel all over him. He leaned over and nuzzled against Desmond’s neck.

Under that other breeder he could smell Desmond and Mars. Mars smelled like citrus and it smelled good on Desmond too. He liked everything about the way Desmond smelled both his own scent and the smell from around him that clung to him from his home.

Desmond cooed, the sound wordless and low. He didn’t mind Daniel’s nose and mouth against his skin, nor did he mind how Daniel smelled either. His wings moved, more like a muscle twitch that he couldn’t control.

It was hard for him to tell how far along Daniel was, and a part of him didn’t care. He wanted to feel Daniel, and he wanted Daniel to feel him.

Daniel was was many things. One thing he wasn’t was enthusiastic. He nibbled on Desmond’s shoulder and after hesitating he slid his hand around Desmond’s neck. Even if just this time, until he left, Desmond was his and he was going to make the most of it. His fingers gently caressed Desmond’s throat. He was on his best behavior and knew this was okay at least though. His wings flared and he cupped them around Desmond carefully.

Best behavior, he reminded himself. Best behavior.

He trilled, tipping his head back a little while he found Daniel’s attention to his behavior kind of endearing. Desmond put his hands on Daniel’s shoulders, returning the gentle, careful touches. His feathers, the golden ones, flickered, and his claws just barely scratched over Daniel’s skin.

Hands on his throat was always a weakness for Desmond. Whether it was a firm grasp at the nape of his neck or soft fingers on the column of his throat, it got to him.

This was good. Daniel knew Desmond approved now so he didn’t feel nearly as awkward as he did before. He did wonder how far he could go though. He wanted Desmond so bad. He wanted Scamander to approve of him and know he was doing what he’d been told. He sort of knew the politics surrounding their matchmaking, it was a bit over his head. Though he knew if Desmond had his baby it’d be good for his Keeper. He didn’t want to mess up.

He ran his fingers across Desmond’s throat a few more times before putting his hands on Desmond’s shoulders and pushing back. He straddled Desmond’s waist and kissed him, a hand back around his neck, but nothing more. Just kisses across Desmond’s mouth and jaw. He didn’t want to rush, rushing would be bad.

His wings fanned out, and Desmond let Daniel move him how he wished. A not quite sigh slid out of his mouth, followed by more birdlike sounds. Nothing was forced, and even though it wasn’t as finessed as it could be, he hadn’t expected a perfect performance.

It was strange though. He didn’t exactly want or need Daniel, but he’d tolerate him because he was better than nothing. Rough and excitable and definitely unfurnished, but good enough so far.

Daniel pressed more kisses along Desmond’s jaw and down his neck so he could touch him elsewhere. He seriously had only half an idea of what he was doing, but he was liking it and Desmond didn’t seem to mind either. He was receptive to Daniel’s touches so Daniel did it more.

He sat back a bit and was slightly flushed. He was also more than a little excited about this. It was basically new and fun and he knew it would feel good. Not like when he’d fooled around a bit with some of the angels at the academy. This wasn’t a soldier, Desmond was soft and plush and Daniel wanted that and wanted to sink all through him.

He let Daniel explore his skin and feathers beneath the loose tunic, and when he leaned back, Desmond was there, moving to compensate and fill the space he left. “You like this?” He asked, pressing a slow kiss against his mouth. For a moment, he didn’t care.

Daniel swallowed, “I... yes,” yes he really liked it. He leaned down again and pressed a kiss to Desmond’s mouth, “We should do more,” he said with a grin his huge, dark, wings fanning over the both of them. A lot more. Right now.

Desmond’s wings pushed up against Daniel’s. “We can’t,” he said bluntly, “I’m not ready, can’t you tell?” He had drawn back and was staring at him, face a perfect deadpan. Aside from the fact that a part of him wanted to shove Daniel down with a growl.

The soldier could be ready as all hell and raring to go, but if their partner wasn’t, no amount of sex would conceive offspring. Desmond wasn’t at that hormonal stage yet. In fact, other than smelling like Adha, himself and Mars, he didn’t have the distinct breeder scent, not as strongly as he probably should have.

Daniel literally came to a screeching halt. Was he supposed to to be able to tell? He just knew he wanted to rub all the other scents off Desmond and replace it with his own and he wanted to do that as soon as possible. Did he have to wait? “What?” he asked dumbly because he knew he was dumb here. His wings drooped a little.

“It won’t make a fledgeling.” Desmond made a face at him. It would feel pretty good, sure, but he was not in the mood for dealing with the brunt of it when Daniel realized it hadn’t worked - and the realization came pretty quickly. “Not until I’m ready.” The way he said it though, begged Daniel just to try.

Daniel blinked, “So we can’t even have sex?” he asked, because really he was more interested in that. Yeah he wanted to procreate like Scamander had told him, but with Desmod right here he was horny as hell. He didn’t care about making a kid. He just wanted to fuck because he knew it’d be way better than any of the times he’d been with a soldier. He wanted to experience that now and damn was he ready. He was really reallyready to go.

Desmond regarded him quietly for a while. “You don’t care about that?” His eyes narrowed a bit. He didn’t really want to deal with Daniel if he wanted a fuck that ended up with nothing. Desmond was here for mating, not just for entertainment.

“Well-” he shut his mouth before he said something stupid because he could feel himself about to do that. “I do,” he said, because he did, it was important that he did end up with a fledgling at the end of this. But he was so much more interested in Desmond. “But I just...” he rubbed his mouth, “I wouldn’t mind other stuff,” he said, at least being truthful.

He physically removed himself from arm’s reach. They were an arranged pair. The whole point was for them to mate successfully. Nothing else. Desmond growled, mostly at himself. It wasn’t just the fact that he was Altair’s life mate that he was getting worked up, but he couldn’t figure it out. Desmond didn’t understand why he wasn’t falling into the paces - normally he didn’t mind sex beforehand.

“Wait,” Daniel fumbled after him, his wings went in a few crazy angles. He was going to ruin this. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let this be ruined for him. The feathers on his head and arms flared. “What? What did I do?” he grabbed Desmond’s arm. He couldn’t fail. He couldn’t fail. Scamander would know and he’d be furious.

“Let go.” Desmond stared at him. “You didn’t do anything.” His wings rose to match Daniel’s, and his feathers nearly bristled. He was not keen on being touched, clearly.

“Then why are you trying to get away from me?” Daniel growled a bit and didn’t let go of Desmond. He wasn’t going to let Desmond get away from him.

Desmond’s wings flapped, and it was an awkward half movement because he didn’t have much of a range at all. “Because I’m not ready to be bred! I’m not here for a-” He stopped, falling silent for a few moments. Then, he swore, smacking himself in the forehead with his free hand. His words were really only a growl, muffled by his palm. He wouldn’t ever be ‘ready.’ Not with how volatile he was, snarling at Daniel like another fighter.

Daniel’s lips pulled back over his sharp front teeth. They still had mostly human jaws but teeth like animals with large sharp front teeth to handle all the meat they ate, and then only a few molars in the back to handle the grains. He growled before he let Desmond go and got up. He had to control himself. He turned his back to Desmond even though at that moment Desmond didn’t smell like a soft breeder, instead he smelled like a hard, powerful, soldier. Daniel never got along well with other angels, even other soldiers and he didn’t want one of them in his bed. He just wanted the breeder Scamander had gotten him on their backs.

He just wanted to have sex why was this so fucking hard?!

Daniel tucked his wings behind his back to show he wasn’t a threat. He didn’t want to fight Desmond, or rile him up. He didn’t want an angry angel in his bed. But he also wouldn’t just let Desmond leave. Scamander had made it very clear he was to follow through.

Desmond relaxed when he saw Daniel’s wings fold. His didn’t quite close up behind him, but they weren’t exactly flared out anymore either. He knew he wouldn’t make it back, not when his hormones switched like that. There were a few moments where Desmond didn’t do anything aside from take slow breaths.

Adha was right, he was only making things that much harder for himself. Underneath the bristling feathers he still wanted to get fucked. Like Daniel, he didn’t care that Scamander wanted a successful breed. Desmond wanted a cock in him, plain and simple. He knew he was being incredibly fickle. He knew, and he didn’t care about that either because watching Daniel struggle to control himself was sadistically entertaining.

He pushed himself up, wings rustling. Desmond moved over to Daniel, fitting himself against his back, between the folds of his wings. “You don’t care, you just want to fuck something,” he purred against the shell of Daniel’s ear. The hand that slid across Daniel’s stomach wasn’t entirely the soft touch of a breeder; Desmond’s talons made themselves known with shallow, white scratches. “The question is, do you even know how?”

Daniel’s wings flared. He growled. “Don’t fucking insult me,” he snapped. Really he was just hanging on by a thread now. Desmond being obnoxious wasn’t helping. He was angry and his wings twitched. Both of his hands became fists. He was angry and he knew he shouldn’t be. This was going to fall apart but right now he didn’t really care. He was high strung and all the kissing he’d done with Desmond had him spiraling.

Before he’d been dealing with a breeder, but Desmond didn’t even smell like one of those anymore, not even under his Keeper or that other soft breeder. He smelled like a soldier. It was doing bad things to him and fucking with his hormones. His head told him it was still Desmond. His body told him that it was like Desmond was gone, taken, another soldier had taken him away. He wanted to murder whoever had done that. His head told him it was Desmond but the other angel had fucked with him and his body wanted to kill Desmond for taking away his mate, no matter how temporary it would be.

“I want you to fuck me like this,” Desmond hissed. “Too bad I don’t smell like a plucky little breeder anymore, yeah?” He forced Daniel to turn around and look at him. He’d let Daniel overpower him - even when he was a soldier he just let them go at it, he was never exactly like the others anyway. “I might not even fight back... much.”

A good angel who had a switched partner would recognize that they were that same angel, and Daniel obviously didn’t, and that was doing bad things to Desmond.

Daniel growled lowly, his upper lip showing some of his teeth. He was trembling from previously holding back. But Desmond was just goading him now, was just asking for it. Looking at Desmond had him infuriated and turned on at the same time.

He shoved Desmond back with a snarl, literally pushing him back onto the bed. Daniel followed after, his dark wings flared out widely, making him bigger. He shoved Desmond onto his back, his hands gripping Desmond’s so hard the area around his fingers were white and would probably be purple when he was done. He straddled across Desmond’s hips, half pinning Desmond’s wings with his knees in a way he knew was uncomfortable. His knees wouldn’t do much good to really keep those wings in check if Desmond wanted to move them for real but they offered Daniel a bit more control in the situation.

The problem was though that he wasn’t in control. Daniel wasn’t thinking clearly. Sometimes angels went into a feral state similar to wild human-avians from before the rise. It made them more aggressive and shut down parts of their brain that dealt with higher level thinking. Usually it only happened in a large battle and they were fighting for their lives. Right now though Daniel was in the feral state and he was pissed and still horny from what Desmond had been doing earlier.

He was going to make Desmond regret leading him on and being so damn picky and fickle. He was going to do what Scamander demanded and he was going to enjoy himself if it killed him.

Of all the things he could have done, Desmond just keened. He didn’t try to move his wings, even though, yes, his knees weren’t comfortable. It was bad, really bad, and he knew he wouldn’t be getting out of this without more than a couple of bruises and cuts, but Daniel didn’t mean anything to him other than an exhilarating experience.

He actually cooed at the feral noises Daniel made, body responding much more readily to that than the awkward touches and kisses he’d been subject to earlier.

Daniel was still way out of his own head. He wasn’t himself and he didn’t care. And now Desmond was making nice, agreeable, noises. They didn’t make him calm down, if anything they just told him he could be this rough and this violent and Desmond would like it. Daniel knew he himself would like it.

He could handle that.

He changed the position of his hands. One went around Desmond’s throat and he actually squeezed. Not as hard as he could, but enough to make Desmond pay attention and his head tip back. Daniel cocked his head at Desmond, half seeing him. He still didn’t smell like a breeder but he did smell like someone quite willing to be taken. Daniel could help him with that. He put himself between Desmond’s legs and used his free hand to yank up his tunic, keeping a firm grip on Desmond’s throat.

Normally, he hated full-on choking. Honestly, he didn’t give a shit right then, it meant he could grab at Daniel, sink claws into his arm. Rile him up even further. There was no real connection between Desmond and Daniel then, and that made it dangerous, but it was clear neither of them cared.

Desmond’s legs hooked around Daniel, his way of saying he wasn’t letting him go just as much as Daniel wasn’t going to let him leave.

Daniel squeezed Desmond’s throat but he needed use of both of his hands because he wore shorts he needed to wriggle out of. In the academy he’d never had to worry about things like clothes. But his Keeper told him to wear them. So he did. He pushed his shorts down, his cock popping up excitedly from its sheath. He was still ready to go from before, maybe even more than before because this; anger and violence, this was really getting him going.

His fingers slipped from Daniel’s arm when he took his hand away from his throat. Desmond nearly whined at the loss - it came out as a partial hiss instead. He did try to raise himself, arch off of the inset bed to meet him, all bared teeth and low snarls.

Daniel shoved Desmond back down with a growl. He didn’t want him moving unless Daniel let him. Clearly Desmond wanted him to hold him down, so he did. He dug his fingers into the flesh of Desmond’s shoulders, digging with his nails too. He used his other hand to pull one of Desmond’s legs up before reaching down.

He groaned when he went in. Yes. Much better than a soldier who was bred to fuck, and not be fucked. His hand not on Desmond’s shoulder went to his throat again because Desmond stayed exactly where he wanted him when he had his strong hand and claws around Desmond’s neck. He squeezed each time he thrust in, his head tipped back. It felt really good.

Through it all, Desmond stared at him, eyes just a little too focused. He let Daniel handle him, hissing a little from the prick of his nails. It was pretty obvious that Desmond wasn’t getting anything out of it, not that Daniel was paying the least bit of attention to him.

Daniel had a lot of things, lasting power during sex wasn’t one of them. Most soldiers didn’t. They finished quickly so they could go to other things like fight and protect their city while the breeders took care of the babies. So Daniel finished quickly, his wings flaring out a little when he finished. He didn’t give a shit how Desmond felt but he knew he’d been pretty rough because he’d needed it. He’d needed it so badly and used Desmond to get what he wanted, to make him feel good.

Panting, he sat back, releasing Desmond, now not nearly so hostile or violent. He felt really good.

He laid there, snarling when Daniel drew back like that was all there was to it. Desmond lunged and pinned him, honestly not caring that Daniel was already coming down. He sat himself on his hips, leaned over Daniel’s body, using the fact that he wasn’t fully aware to really hold him down. He was going to finish, and he didn’t give a fuck that Daniel was done.

Daniel bared his teeth at Desmond and bucked a little but he didn’t have the energy to throw him off just at that moment. Then he found he didn’t want to throw him off either because Desmond was on top of him quite literally. He gripped Desmond’s hips tightly and didn’t even realize he had it in him to get it together again so soon after the last time. He could really, really, like this. Scamander would be pissed though since even Daniel knew this was barely above soldiers rutting. There’d be no fledgling from this.

Desmond rolled his hips, grinding against Daniel until his growls sounded more like whimpers. He was frustrated that he couldn’t get himself to unsheathe - and probably wouldn’t unless he had the audacity to fuck Daniel. Not that he wouldn’t, but he was still seeing red when he looked at him. “Can’t even finish me off,” he taunted breathlessly, without passion.

It was entirely typical, and Desmond already knew he’d be left impatient and wanting, and no amount of trying to fuck himself on Daniel’s cock would solve it. Certainly didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try until they were both exhausted.

Daniel narrowed his eyes at Desmond and now did have the fortitude to sit up and shove Desmond off him. He pushed Desmond till the other angel was on his stomach and pinned him there with his hands and wings. To make sure Desmond stayed like that a hand once again went around his throat. He pushed one of Desmond’s wings down to make his back arch and so he had less control over the limb.

“I’m not your life mate,” Daniel growled in Desmond’s ear, “I’m not here to make you feel good. And since you fucked this up,” because it was his fault, not Daniel’s. He’d been prepared to be nice and play nice and follow the rules before Desmond started sending all these mixed messages. “I’m just going to make myself feel good instead,” and he bit Desmond’s shoulder hard, though not hard enough to draw blood. But Desmond would have a bruise when this was done. Several bruises really. As it was Desmond’s neck was going to be covered in a collar of Daniel’s finger marks.

Desmond wasn’t going to have it a second time. He thrashed beneath Daniel, digging his claws into whatever was closest to his hands and feet. “You already did that,” he hissed. It wasn’t often that all twenty curved talons were sunk into any single target, but to Desmond’s credit, he didn’t drag and flay the damn bed.

Perhaps it had been unfair when Desmond led Daniel on, encouraged him when he should have hung back until his hormones were more or less balanced. He wasn’t going to stand for being blamed, they both acted on instinct when it came down to it.

“Well I’m going to do it again,” Daniel told Desmond, though out of breath. Really he did not last long and if he actually had any real experience he’d be embarrassed. But he didn’t so he didn’t give a fuck and he definitely didn’t give a fuck about Desmond now. Scamander might actually cull him for being this damn incompetent and let Desmond get to him like this. If that was the case he was going to leech every ounce of pleasure he could from Desmond’s body. Because fuck this guy.

He squeezed Desmond’s neck and shoved his wing down firmly. He was really close. Daniel pressed his head between Desmond’s wings and muttered curses under his breath.

The next sound out of his mouth was nothing short of a screech. Daniel yanking on his wing made him arch, and the cry faded into a less angry keening. His voice was beyond his control by then. Desmond jerked, hoping it would hide the shudder in his wings.

Daniel shoved with his wings and made Desmond just stop moving. He was so damn wiggly and it was annoying. But he got Desmond to more or less lie rather still while he finished. He moaned when he did, his grip on Desmond’s neck tightening for a few moments before he relaxed his grip. He pressed his forehead against the back of Desmond’s neck and went limp basically all over. He felt completely exhausted.

Desmond forced himself to remain still when Daniel finished. The fighter fucked like a tactless rabbit and still he wasn’t even there. He bit back a chuckle, having to physically bite down on Daniel’s bedding.

“If this is how you treat them.... I’m not surprised.” The feeling of Daniel’s forehead against the nape of his neck was almost adorable, and just like before, there was no bite to his insult. He wasn’t satisfied, that was for sure, but he wasn’t about to try and teach Daniel exactly what he’d done so wrong. The idiot had ended up in his ass that last time, not that Desmond made any mention of it.

He was certainly not going to want to move for the next twelve hours, but it was debatable whether it was that he didn’t want to or actually couldn’t.

Still a bit short of breath Daniel got off Desmond, one because Desmond wasn’t thrashing or fighting anymore so he felt safe letting him have real possession of his claws again. And two because he couldn’t stay in anymore. He rolled off Desmond and onto his stomach so his wings weren’t in the way. Desmond had said something but he wasn’t listening. He grabbed one of his pillows and put it under his head. He was literally asleep twenty seconds later,

Desmond snarled at his sleeping form, and hated that he wanted to lean against him. He knew he would end up seeking heat while he was asleep. It wasn’t the best scenario because he couldn’t really remember past his anger how many times Daniel fucked him, but he could tell that he was definitely incapacitated, or at least moving would be slow going and possibly one of the worst things ever.

He forced himself to move, and forewent even trying to find his tunic or bag, or even check to see if any feathers he lost were important. It wasn’t dark, but his eyes wanted to close, and though he wanted to just leave he wanted to sleep while his body finished rejecting everything that Daniel did. Desmond didn’t even feel good about it, not on the long term. The bruises were perfect and tender, but the amount of time that pain felt remotely good corresponded directly to his own involvement.

Getting outside was a chore, and he couldn’t even get his wings to move fast enough to lift himself. Desmond would be walking home, and it would take a hell of a long time. Of course, he’d have to get over the fence first.


	7. Momma Bear

Mars was waiting  for Desmond to get home impatiently. Scamander had called her a few hours ago and told her Desmond wasn’t with Daniel, apparently he’d left after Daniel fell asleep after sex. Scamander was furious. Mars was even more so and had screamed at him a good ten minutes before Scamander had just hung up on her. Served him right though.

She knew Desmond would come home at least, it was just taking him a while. As soon as she’d finished being angry at Scamander she’d turned on the song to call Desmond home. He wouldn’t be able to disobey, she knew that. So she was just waiting, and worried out of her mind. What would make Desmond leave? Daniel must have been horrible. Not to mention too quick for clearly his own good.

Mars was waiting by the door for Desmond and when it finally opened she was the first thing he saw. “Desmond,” she said and he stepped in and she really got a look at him. “Desmond!” now she was even angrier. Desmond was all roughed up. His wings were a mess, his feathers all pushed around and he wasn’t wearing his tunic so the bruises were clear. But she was more concerned with the ones around his throat. Clearly it had been some time since they’d made and the bruises were starting to yellow instead of be dark purple. But they were around his neck and down his chest and his waist. “Oh my angel what happened?” she asked and took his face in her hands. She smoothed her thumbs across his cheeks. Daniel had hurt her Desmond.

He gave a soft, whining hiss, but didn't pull away from her. Desmond just shook his head, all he wanted to do was curl up in his nest and not get up until the sun forced him.

"I switched," Desmond muttered. "I did stupid things, Daniel did stupid things." His wings folded tighter against his back, but he didn't make an effort to hide the bruises from Mars. It was inevitable she'd find them at one point or another.

“You what?” Mars blinked at Desmond a bit incomprehensibly. She knew what switching meant but that Desmond would switch. “Oh Desmond,” she sighed and ran a hand through his hair. She didn’t know how that could even happen. Desmond was so good, he never switched. She hung her head a little, “Go wash up, we’ll talk when you’re clean,” since Desmond was so rough but she didn’t care if he was tired. He’d fucked up, they both knew it, and Desmond needed to tell her what had happened so she needed to know exactly how angry she should be at Scamander. She let him go and squeezed his shoulder before nudging him towards the bathroom.

Desmond probably spent an extraneous amount of time in the bathroom cleaning himself. He didn't use water if he could help it, because he had so many feathers. Cleaning mostly consisted of a warm, wet cloth and making his feathers lie in order again. He was so exhausted and just wanted to sleep, but Mars wanted to talk and she wanted to talk now.

He was markedly less ragged when he came to her office, clothed again and more or less in order. Desmond didn't speak, though, only made a quiet, uncomfortable warble.

Mars was trying to make herself busy while Desmond cleaned up. She was compiling a list of things she needed to yell at Scamander about including how roughed up her angel was along with several other things most of which were political and tedious. Any good will they had was gone. She only tolerated Altair messing with Desmond because Desmond insisted on him and no one else. But even then only so much. She didn’t tolerate stupid soldiers hurting her angel.

She looked up at Desmond when he came in. “Come here,” she ordered sternly and pointed next to her for Desmond to sit on the floor in front of her. She wasn’t happy with Daniel or Scamander; but she wasn’t happy with Desmond either. He’d switched when he’d been the one who’d told Mars he wanted Daniel. She wasn’t angry at him like she was the other idiots but she was frustrated and disappointed in him. Desmond was a headache sometimes. Like now.

Desmond didn’t sit, he kneeled down, biting his lip. He was far from keen on explaining what happened in any level of detail. His wings folded tightly, feathers low. He had no idea what to expect from Mars.

“I didn’t think I’d switch, I was just waiting until I was ready...” Desmond didn’t quite meet her gaze.

Mars turned to him trying very hard not to be angry. “Then why did you come home covered in bruises?” she asked him, “And what did Daniel do? And I expect the truth, Desmond,” she said sternly and hooked a leg over her knee. Normally she was more like a friend to her angel than his master, but even Mars had limits, and she’d reached them with this. She was sure Desmond sometimes forgot Mars didn’t just have a carrot, but also a stick, and she wasn’t afraid to use it when he disobeyed.

“Well, he was, and he wanted it now and he didn’t like me pulling away.” Desmond hesitated, scowling a bit. “Daniel got angry, I got angry, I just enabled him - I wanted it.” He hadn’t cared at the time. Then again, he hadn’t been thinking like a breeder then either.

Mars groaned and pressed her hand to her forehead. “Desmond,” she sighed. “So you encouraged his aggressive behavior and switched,” she actually scowled at him. “What am I going to tell Scamander... what am I going to tell Veles? He’s been contacting me about you. The assault is coming up and he isn’t the only one who’s been trying to get in touch with me,” as usual, not that anyone was good enough for Desmond other than Altair.

“The council is expecting heavy losses on this assault. Abstergo is one of the most sophisticated and powerful faction the humans have; as I’m sure you know. They kill angels Desmond. I let you go with Daniel because a mandate came out that all breeders needed to be in use,” she looked down on him angrily.

“What the hell am I supposed to tell them? That my angel switched because he’s impatient? This is absolutely unacceptable Desmond. I expected so much better from you than this.” She rubbed her temple. “How am I going to fix this? This now won’t just be something I have to explain to Scamander. I’ll have to explain this to the council,” she jiggled her foot, annoyed.

He squirmed and actually whined. Veles meant Altair, but of course he’d gone and fucked that up too. “It wasn’t because I was impatient - he was.” Desmond made a face, scowling at the floor. “I wasn’t trying to switch,” he mumbled.

Desmond didn’t consciously try to do much of anything other than get close to Altair. Going from a breeder’s mindset to a fighter’s wasn’t exactly easy, but it wasn’t unheard of, all angels had the capacity to become fighters were there a great enough threat. It certainly was not that Daniel had been intending to flat out murder him.

“He wasn’t trying to kill me or anything...”

“Oh, wonderful,” Mars said. “And if you hadn’t meant to switch than you would have behaved. You know how soldiers are Desmond. I expected you to be able to handle it and know how to do what was needed. Instead you come home hurt, switched, and completely useless,” she knew Desmond hated being called useless. “You’re not a soldier this cycle Desmond. You don’t get a breeder like other soldiers before it.” Desmond was totally useless for having children now. “I’m calling Veles tomorrow and telling him what happened, that you’re unavailable and that he can find Altair another angel before the assault. You’re grounded until further notice and are to stay in your room unless its meal time. Understand?” she asked and tapped her foot against his stomach to make sure he was looking at her.

His gut twisted, and he made a sound like Mars had actually struck him when she said he was useless. Desmond whimpered, nodding when she grounded him. If they were all screwed over, he’d at least be here, but it was far from being a good turn of events. He could still be bred, but it would definitely be a last ditch, end of the line arrangement. Either way it basically translated to a useless breeder.

“Good. Now go to your room. I’ll call you when dinner is ready,” she said, tapping her foot. She knew Desmond was reading her body language and if she’d been an angel like him her wings would be flared out fully, feathers extended to the max. She was the boss here, his flock leader, and she was pissed. He was making her life difficult and she already had to deal with annoying men enough in her life. She didn’t want Desmond to make her life difficult too.

Desmond slipped out of the room, trying to hide his limp. He still submitted easily to her aggression, a trait common throughout whether he was a mild-mannered breeder or a quick-tempered fighter.

His refuge was piling everything up on his bed and hiding beneath it so that he could nurse his bruises and frustration in relative darkness. It was depressing, but he still only wanted to sleep.

\--

It wa a few days after the disastrous matchmaking with Daniel that Mars went into Desmond’s room. She had a case in her hand. It had been given to her by the council after they found out Desmond had switched. She’d pleaded his case to the best she could. As it was they couldn’t afford to have a breeder out of commission because of a stupid mistake. They were expecting high casualties so they needed to try and replenish their angels from the soul reservoir as quickly as possible.

The case contained an injector gun and vials of hormone injections. They said Desmond needed to be put back on track as a breeder. So he was getting hormone injections.

Desmond was curled up on his bed looking pitiful. She’d only seen him for meals, otherwise he stayed locked in his room. She sat on the edge of his nest-bed and made a soft cooing noise, holding out her hand. She hated having to discipline Desmond. But sometimes he really just tested her. The cooing wasn’t anywhere as pretty as what Desmond could manage with his wide range of noises, but she knew what noise she was making. It was a loving sound and she stroked his wings a little waiting for him to seek her hand like she knew he would since she knew he wanted her approval, her touch and affection.

He responded with a low whine, moving to nuzzle against her hand. Desmond cooed back at her, and pulled himself out of his pile. His eyes avoided the case, and he was unsure if he was allowed to lean against her.

The bruises on his skin were healing quickly, less of the purpled green and more yellow. They would still be there for a while, but it didn’t look like he’d been thrown out of a bus.

Mars ran her fingers through the feathers on Desmond’s head. “You’re okay,” she said softly and leaned down, gently nuzzling him. This was her way of telling him she wasn’t mad at him anymore. Yeah she was annoyed still but she wasn’t mad. She was more angry with Scamander, and Daniel really. She stroked his soft feathers on his head and shoulders before sitting back up.

She looked at her lap and opened the containing. “You’re getting hormone injections,” she told him, “for being a breeder,” she took out one of the vials. “If you’re good about it and react well I’ll ask Ogoun if Adha can come over. But,” she gave him a stern look, “only if you’re back to normal,” she loaded the vial into the injector.

She wouldn’t have Adha over and risk Desmond switching again. It had only been a few days though and Desmond had been isolated from other angels. He could switch back if he had the right hormone chemistry and a breeder like Adha could do one of two things, switch Desmond back to how he’d been before meeting Daniel. Alternatively she could also push him further into the soldier mindset. She had to be careful when she brought Adha around.

Desmond kept his eyes far from the whole contraption. He had no problem looking at an open wound, or making them, but injections and needles were a different thing entirely. And the problem itself hadn’t come up until that last human-avian incarnation.

“Come up here,” Mars said gently, she knew how Desmond felt about needles, she’d previewed all his memories on his first cycle and kept them out at first. Once he’d been old enough she’d let him decide if he wanted all those memories of that human who had simultaneously made him and very nearly ruined him. She patted the spot beside her. It would literally be over in two seconds because of the injection gun, she just had to get Desmond to sit still that long. And he would, because he wanted to her to be happy with him again.

He scooted over to where Mars wanted him, and leaned against the shoulder she wasn’t using. Really it was just to bury his face against while she jabbed the needle into his arm... or wherever it was going. Desmond still whined about it, though he was keeping pretty still.

Mars laughed a little, “Oh you’re such a big baby,” she said and rubbed his arm. “How come you always need lil old me to baby you?” though she didn’t mind. Yeah she didn’t want kids but Desmond was special. But it was sort of silly. Desmond, like most angels or other proeathans, completely dwarfed her. By human standards she was almost outrageously tall for a woman at six feet, but for her people she was short. That she would have to comfort her big angel (who could be even bigger when he was a soldier) was on the side of ridiculous and funny.

She took a sanitary pad and wiped it on the inside of Desmond’s elbow where there were no feathers. She pressed the injector to his skin and pulled the trigger. The injector went off with a soft pop and hiss and she pulled it away. “All done,” she said and pulled his head onto her shoulder, petting his hair. “You have three more over the rest of the week,” she said, it was just the start of the treatments though. She had three weeks to get Desmond back to how he had been. Hopefully after this week Adha could help with that.

Desmond flinched and immediately curled up after Mars pulled the spent needle away. He didn’t want three more, but he wouldn’t complain. “Okay,” he muttered. He was pretty sure that no other soldier was this whiny or touchy-feely with their Keeper. Then again, not many of them were just as likely to be breeders.


	8. A Fantastic Mistake

Mars was happy. And when Mars was happy Desmond was happy and got things he enjoyed. She was very happy with how he’d been taking to the hormones, though he was such a baby about them because he didn’t like needles. This was the second week of them, he had two more this week and then three more next week and he should be totally done and at stable chemistry for breeding. Which was, of course, the entire point of this.

Because Desmond had been responding so well Mars had asked Ogoun to let Adha visit. The pretty angel had been visiting for a few days. Up till now Mars monitored all the time they spent together to make sure nothing happened. Nothing did.

She got the door when Adha rang, as punctual as always. She knew Desmond heard. “Hello Mars,” Adha bowed her head to Mars when she opened the door.

“Hello, Adha. Come in,” and she led Adha to Desmond’s room. “Desmond,” she said as she opened the door. “Adha’s here. I’m going to run a few quick errands,” meaning she was leaving them alone, meaning she trusted Desmond alone with Adha. “So play nice and don’t burn the house down while I’m gone.”

Desmond came up to the doorway, greeting Adha with a soft, happy sound. He hugged her, feathers ruffling. He’d never once burned down the house - and he didn’t think that Mars needed to be worried.

“Okay good. I’ll be back in a little bit,” Mars said, satisfied everything would be alright without her there to supervise their play date.

Adha nuzzled into Desmond’s chest. She always liked the way he smelled. Especially now actually. “Your Keeper is trusting you again,” she said with a grin, as pleased as Desmond since she knew how distraught Desmond had been while Mars had been displeased by him.

He cooed, carefully combing through the feathers on her head. Desmond pulled Adha to his nest-bed, which was still mostly a pile of things. He just snuggled against her, burying his face in the same soft feathers he smoothed down.

“You seem in a really good mood,” Adha said, carding her fingers through the feathers on his big wings. Effectively Desmond had her pinned to be smothered with snuggling and frankly she wasn’t adverse to the idea. “Other than this anything good happen?” she asked.

Desmond’s wings were half spread. “I’m still grounded.” Adha was the only other soul besides Mars he’d been allowed to see.

Adha gigged, “So you’re just so excited to see me. Is that it?” she cooed in delight.

“I always am.” He kissed the bridge of her nose. “Were you expecting something?” Desmond asked, blinking.

“No,” Adha said slowly, though really with how touchy Desmond was with her it was practically courtship. She didn’t want to do anything that would cast Desmond in a bad light with Mars though. “I just like being appreciated,” she said petting his head.

He curved his wings around Adha, almost but not quite purring. Desmond was probably a little too excited to see her. Maybe it was that Mars wasn’t there, or it was a day between injections, but Adha smelled really nice, and she was warm, soft and comfortable. He wasn’t going to let her go unless threatened.

“Desmond,” Adha said with a slight frown. She didn’t know if Desmond actually realized what he was doing. Maybe he didn’t, she was giving him the benefit of the doubt. “If you’re not going to fuck me you really need to back off a little,” because he was a little too close. It was also starting to smell less like two breeders and more like a soldier was in here. It probably wasn’t a good thing.

He bit his lip, worrying the recent scar. Desmond realized that he wanted to, “Who would know?” He was still the prince of bad decisions, but this decision definitely felt like it would feel really damn good. “It would be way better than another soldier,” he pointed out, voice low, “And you’re just as sick of them as I am.”

“We would know,” Adha said and pushed herself away a little though not really away. Mars had told her what happened and why Desmond was getting injections. Unlike Desmond apparently Adha knew how to handle stupid angels who were controlled by their dicks. “Would you want to keep that from Mars?” she asked and licked her lips a bit nervously. Desmond was bigger than her, she was used to that with soldiers, but the types were usually around the same height. Desmond was bigger than other breeders though. If he wanted to he could keep her where he wanted. She really hoped he didn’t though and wasn’t so stupid as to do that. She’d claw his face off before she let him do something to her, at least to try and fight back.

He just whimpered at her, watched Adha flick her tongue over her lips. Desmond’s fingers twitched, but his grip did not tighten. He was unsure about it at least, and didn’t pin her. It was clear he wanted to. “I don’t act like them, I know I’m not supposed to grab and pull, it doesn’t feel good.”

“I’m supposed to be with someone else,” Adha said, really she was just trying to steer Desmond out of decision he might regret. She was supposed to be with a soldier before the assault. Ogoun had already told her and she’d met him. He was nice, and while not gentle like she was sure Desmond would be, it wouldn’t be the first time for him this cycle. Which was good. She hated virgins, they were rough and mean and usually hurt. Clearly since she’d seen the last of the bruises on Desmond from his run in with a virgin soldier. “Use the head on your shoulders,” she told him.

He scowled at her. “... Yeah, and the more I think about it, the more I want it.” Desmond’s expression softened, and he pet the feathers on her chest and shoulders with the backs of his fingers, cooing gently.

Adha could see this wasn’t working. She thought back on everything she’d done the past few days. She’d never led him on. Mars had always either been in the room with them or in sight of them to make sure this didn’t happen. At the very least Adha knew this wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t led him on or done anything she didn’t do with any other breeders and she only came over when Mars asked her to.

“Even though it’d make Mars upset?” she asked, swallowing. She wasn’t immune to him though. Earlier she’d thought it was like a courtship and she was right; it was. Adha didn’t want Desmond to do something he’d regret later but she didn’t know how much longer she could keep telling him no either. Her body was responding exactly the way it was supposed to when confronted with someone she was supposed to mate with and that... wasn’t good.

Desmond let out a whine. “You wouldn’t tell her, or is that what you’re trying to say?” He moved to kneel over her so he could nuzzle into the soft feathers he had been touching. Part of it was to stop Adha from moving away again. She had come to mean a lot to Desmond, and as much as he didn’t want to ruin what they had, he also wanted to breed her because she meant so much to him.

“Or you help me get rid of this because I’m not going to be left horny again.” His body would have much rathered burying his cock in Adha and thoroughly fucking her. While not exactly visibly aroused, Desmond was definitely horny.

Adha gasped softly, not expecting Desmond suddenly over her. She shifted to be comfortable on her back and really didn’t need to say anything. Her body was talking for her. She sort of hated to admit it but she was really turned on right now. Usually her mates had to work for it but they were always so clumsy and annoying. Desmond knew exactly what to do and the fact that he smelled like both types wasn’t helping.

When it came down to it, she wanted him. He’d be better than any soldier Ogoun arranged for her. She made a soft sort of whistling coo of a noise and slid her hands up Desmond’s chest. If he was so dead set and was flipping all the switches she had she wasn’t going to keep denying herself.

Desmond leaned down, pressing kisses along her shoulder and neck. He purred against Adha’s skin and pulled her hips off of the bed. His hands were kind, and he was mindful of his claws, and so very thorough. He knew exactly where to touch her, how hard to press when he ground down, for how long.

His breath was short, and more often a quiet, repeated keening. “Adha,” Desmond murmured, mouth more at her ear.

Adha had her eyes closed and she was grinning more than a little. It was really nice to have a mate who actually knew their way around her body and didn’t just fumble along hoping to not screw up too badly. She liked the kisses and the touches and the way Desmond’s hands felt on her, pushing against her body but not in a way that she didn’t like.

She reached up for Desmond’s face, opening her eyes again and caressed it, sliding her fingers across his cheeks and jaw and down his neck. Her grin turned into a little smirk Altair would have been proud of as she laid her hands around Desmond’s throat, where the bruises there had been the darkest and still remained a little. Adha was gentle though and her fingers nearly hovered over Desmond’s skin, barely touching.

Then she tightened them barely so she had enough purchase to pull Desmond down and kiss him.

He groaned and felt himself unsheathe. Beneath him, Adha’s body was practically begging him to ram into her. Desmond managed not to, instead adopting a slower approach as he slid into the tight, warm opening.

Desmond pulled Adha off of the bed, pressing her against his own body. One hand was anchored at her lower back, the other hooked around her shoulder, fit into the space between one of her wings and her shoulder blade. His own wings spread out, feathers splayed.

Adha gasped as she put her legs on either side of Desmond's thighs. Unlike with soldiers Desmond knew what he was doing. He wasn't as big as soldiers but she liked it better and she liked feeling him between her thighs. She grinned feeling Desmond push up into her, his hands on her back.

He felt really good and he wasn't mindlessly fucking her either like other soldiers would who had no thought in their heads that maybe they shouldn't be so rough. Breeders weren't made of the same tough stuff as soldiers where they could just mindlessly fuck. Adha liked to be pampered. Desmond was taking care of himself first but she still made it feel good and would make her feel even better once he was done.

Adha put her hands on Desmond's shoulders and moved with him, trilling happily. She didn't have to worry about Mars catching them, Desmond's Keeper was gone. It was just the two of them. Adha had been with another breeder before and where soldiers finished in a few minutes breeders just lasted and lasted. They could be at this for a while before Desmond even wanted to finish. Her wings flared and rocked with him, short of breath a bit and pressed her forehead against Desmond's. "That's really good," she said, happily out of breath.

Desmond purred, nuzzling and kissing her. He laughed softly, movement slow. He was really sweet on Adha, making sure to take the time to please her with his hands - though he knew that how he was moving his hips felt pretty damn good.

They really could go on for a while, but Mars would be back at some time, and he couldn't be caught smelling like sex.

Adha kissed him on his face, his lips, his neck. She adored the way he smelled and it made her incredibly needy actually. He was half and half and it was literally the best of both worlds.

"Why didn't we do this earlier?" Adha gasped because Desmond's hands were distracting and perfect. She nuzzled into him with a whine, squeezing his shoulders and back tightly.

“Because we aren’t supposed to do this,” He answered with a smile that was more of a smirk. The wrists of Desmond’s wings pressed close to Adha’s as his pace sped up. Desmond buried his face against her shoulder, hissing.

Adha was going to say something but all that came out was a few, short, moans and some low trills. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and neck and was so glad he was moving faster now. She let her soft warbles and gasps be his incentive and appreciation. Because she appreciated him. She appreciated him so much for giving her a good time and not just mindlessly mating with her because he’d been told to.

Desmond echoed her sounds with a somewhat strained and muffled voice. It was interrupted by a shaky kind of keening, hips snapping just a little bit harder to bury himself when he came, as if there would be a chance he’d mess up somehow. He apologized for the sudden jerk with kisses against the feathers on her shoulder, and a soft warble of his own.

Adha laughed a little, voice shaky. “So much better than what I can expect in a week or so,” she sighed happily and pressed her hand against the feathers on his head and shoulders. She cursed, and she never cursed, even usually during or after sex. But Desmond... Desmond deserved her bad mouth.

She pushed herself away from him a little, still on his lap. She had a bit of a cheeky grin on her face. “Again,” she said cheerfully and bumped her nose against his, chirping and flashing her wings.

He shook his head, though it was more of him pushing against Adha’s hand. There was a satisfied look on his face, even though the amused smile. Desmond hadn’t let her move far enough away that he slid free of her, and he didn’t seem intent on changing that either.

“I don’t know when Mars is coming back,” Desmond cooed, hands resting amicably at her hips, thumbs brushing over her feathers. He certainly wanted to go at it again, and his body would begin responding again to do so in a little while. To make up for it, Desmond wrapped his wings around her and caught her lips in another kiss. He didn’t let Adha go until he felt breathless himself.

Adha just chirped when Desmond stopped kissing her and rested her forehead against his, panting slightly. “Well, you finished first,” she said, Desmond had gotten her going but she wanted to finish too. He’d gotten off. It was why she’d wanted to go again. She’d been so close and Desmond felt so good.

He rolled his hips up, mostly just to see how sensitive Adha still was. Satisfied, he moved her enough that he was pretty much free (which prompted his penis to sheathe itself again), and had enough room to really touch her. Desmond knew Adha was right there, really incredibly close, and she was wet and wanting and needy. His fingers were gentle, deftly aware of his talons, and sure. He probably wasn’t even going to need to do much more than rub her.

All of Adha’s feathers fluffed out so she looked more like a dandelion than an angel. She trilled and moaned and she hadn’t actually had someone give her an orgasm in a long time. Soldiers were totally useless for actually pleasing their partner unless you, literally, held their hands about it. She squirmed in delight and lay panting on the bed, her hand tight on the sheets. “Oh thank goodness,” she moaned. She ran her hand across her stomach and just chirped some, happy and content.

Desmond grinned down at her, then nuzzled into the slightly frizzed feathers on her head. He managed to fit himself beside Adha, snuggling with her in a more breeder-like manner, cooing and responding to her little chirps with some of his own. “I... almost forgot what that was even like.”

Of course, he actually didn’t, but it was better than sinking into an easily awkward silence. And it was better than asking Adha to get him off in the same way, even if it would put him more firmly back into the whole breeder mind-set. That was why Mars was injecting him three times a week, it wasn’t Adha’s job to help him with that.

Adha giggled, “No you didn’t,” she teased him, nuzzling him. After a few minutes she sucked her teeth a bit and looked down at her hand on her stomach.

She knew how her body worked. Unlike Desmond she’d had several children during her cycles, only one or two with Altair. Angels went into ‘heat’ briefly before, during, and after sex if you were turned on enough and had the right hormone chemistry. Angels had been created by an intelligent hand, unlike proeathans and humans, and they didn’t waste like naturally evolved creatures did. They didn’t ovulate in the same manner. Because of this Adha would in the next few hours, kicked in by sex and hormones. Angels were also freakishly fertile and were guaranteed to get pregnant if you flipped the right switches and were full of the right hormones.

So in short, Adha was pregnant.

She pressed her head back with an annoyed groan. That... wasn’t supposed to happen. Shit. In a week or so she was going to be with a fighter and he was supposed to knock her up. “So,” she said slowly, “you realize you’re a dad now right?”

Desmond was excited and nervous and incredibly pissed with himself all at the same time. Needless to say, the emotions made his face do some pretty weird ass shit. “Fuck.” In the time he hadn’t been paying attention, he’d reached out to touch her stomach, and jerked back when he came back into focus. “Fuck!”

It had been a long time since Desmond had actually fathered any children, and the whole point of the injections was so that he could mother one. He pushed himself away and rushed out of the room in a flurry of skewed feathers and more creative swearing. Was he supposed to get a shot today? Desmond was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten one earlier, or the day before so he was, wasn’t he?

He’d gone into Mars’ office, and was staring at the case. Desmond kept walking halfway toward it, and then turning around to leave, but rather than leave, just turn around again at the door with a hiss. Oh fuck, he’d start losing feathers if he freaked out any more about it, and that alone was enough to make him snatch up the case - oh God the stupid injection gun was heavier than he expected, but he had not known what to expect at all.

Desmond brought it back to his room, half cradling it like it was precious, but also managing to look like he didn’t want anything to do with it at the same time. And then he was asking Adha to help him with it.

Adha chirped in concern, “Desmond?” she asked, sitting up. She’d pulled her tunic back into place when he’d left and really been concerned about where and why he’d gone. She’d wanted to go after him but she didn’t know her way around Mars’ house and didn’t want to get lost in it.

When he came back and sat, with a case in his hand she chirped a little, “What is it?” she asked, though she had an idea. Desmond wasn’t supposed to have gone that way. But she’d told him! She’d tried to get him to think with his head.

“Hormone injections.” He popped open the carrying case, brow furrowing. Desmond really hated needles, and he hated the injections, but Mars couldn’t know that he’d fucked Adha and actually got her pregnant. If he seemed on track it would basically be impossible. At least, those were his thoughts.

Desmond clicked one of the vials in place. Would one be enough? Mars only did one at a time, but two wouldn’t do anything bad, would it? He had no idea. “I need you to put this on my arm and pull the trigger,” Desmond gestured to the inside of his elbow, not trusting himself. Besides, he’d have to pull it with his thumb and it was awkward.

Adha frowned, “Why? Desmond this probably isn’t a good idea,” she really hoped he listened to her. He hadn’t listened before. “You should just let Mars do it,” she said even when Desmond put the injector into her hands.

“She can’t know what we- what I just did, that you actually--” Desmond covered his face, huffing. “And I’m supposed to get one today, or... earlier today.” He ran over the times Mars injected him, and felt like he was missing something else.

He reached back into the case, finding the little alcohol swabs, and cleaned the inside of his elbow with one. There were vague bruises there from previous injections.

“Desmond,” Adha put the injector down. “You could really mess up your hormones if you do too many of these. I won’t tell her,” she pressed her hand just under his elbow. “You know how it works. By the time it matters everyone will think it was from my matchmaking mate. You don’t have to do this,” she didn’t want him to hurt himself by doing this out of turn.

Desmond looked up at her, “But she didn’t do one today, she’s out.” He put the swab down. “I’ll do it myself if you won’t.” He picked it up again and held it out. “It’s going to happen either way and I’m pretty sure it’s late today anyway.”

She grabbed the injector from his hands, “You idiot! You think Mars would just miss a day you were supposed to get hormones?” she demanded. “It’s a council mandate that all breeders need to be ready for the assault as well as soldiers. She’d get into a lot of trouble if you weren’t able to bear a child,” she scowled at him. “You’re not thinking right today,” she pressed her hand to his cheek. “Or lately really,” she didn’t know why Desmond was acting like this.

“Obviously something’s not working because I definitely bred you when I’m supposed to be going back to being a breeder! These are supposed to put me back!” Desmond almost made a grab for the gun back, but it didn’t go much further than his fingers twitching. “They’re breeder hormones so I can go back to being a breeder so I can actually do what the council wants from me - get bred by a soldier so they have their next line of angels ready when the casualties come in.”

He didn’t feel like he was even fully one or the other, and some far off, ignored part of him knew that injecting himself with the hormones wouldn’t make him feel any more like a breeder for some time yet.

“Then trust your Keeper,” she hissed at him and held the injector well out of reach. “She’ll be home soon and you can ask her about your injections. But I’m not shooting you up like some human addict. This is serious and you could mess up your chemistry with too many injections,” and she wouldn’t put it past him to do several all at once.

Desmond actually snarled at her, wings unfolding while the feathers actually on his body pressed down flat. “Something’s off and I need to fix it. There isn’t time for me to fully switch again.” If he did, there’d be no way he’d get back to breeding readiness in time, and it would be Mars who would be punished for it. It would make its way to Desmond too, because he’d be unable to keep quiet about fucking Adha with how guilty he’d feel.

“Just- I need to fix it,” Desmond said again, a little more than desperate.

“Well I’m not doing it,” Adha tossed the injector on the bed. “I already let you talk me into one bad situation; I’m not letting you talk me into another,” and she got up from the bed. She tugged her backless tunic down and ran her fingers through her head feathers a few times so it didn’t look like Desmond had just had his way with her. “Maybe I should just... leave?” she sort of asked.

He physically turned himself away from Adha, and didn’t stand when she did. Nor did Desmond really make a comment one way or another when she asked if she should leave. He wanted her to go, but he also knew that she would probably stay if he was too eager to agree. But there was also something wrong and he knew it was the imbalanced hormones that didn’t seem like they could fix themselves.

Adha frowned at Desmond. She’d half hoped he would ask her to stay. Clearly though he was more set on his stupid injection. She sighed. “I’ll see you after the assault,” she said because no way she was coming back here before then. Either Desmond switched or he didn’t. She leaned down behind him, her small hands on his big shoulders, and put her face into his neck for a moment, “Tell Mars Ogoun called me home,” she kissed his cheek, squeezed his shoulders, and left the room.

She wouldn’t watch Desmond torment himself over this, what they’d done. Adha sighed as she got outside and looked down. She frowned again and pressed her hand to her flat stomach. Not much she could do about it. At the very least everyone would think she’d conceived when she was supposed to. She flared out her wings and jumped, heading back home.

He gave a quiet warble, kind of nuzzling against her until she let go and left. Desmond sat and stared at the discarded injection gun for some time before he actually moved and picked it up, legs tucked beneath him.

Desmond did manage to position his arm well enough to line it up correctly, and pulled the trigger before thinking too much about it. He whined about the pricking pain a little, and then disposed of the spent vial. Even if he did use another one, Mars would know. There were a few other cases somewhere that only had the hormone in them, but Mars only kept two of the capsules with the actual device. If he used both, she’d know he did something weird. Aside from take the initiative to keep himself on schedule.

He tucked the injector away, closed the case, and pushed it to the edge of his bed before curling up with his back to it, as if that would stop him from wanting to take the second dose.

When Mars came home he noticed how quiet it was. That was odd. Usually Adha and Desmond liked to sing to each other in that crazy old human-avian language. “Desmond,” she called as she pulled the scarf from her head. “Where are you?”

With a grunt, Desmond roused himself and got up to greet Mars. The trill he made wasn’t exactly the usual happy sound, but he was glad that she was home. “Ogoun called Adha home earlier. I was in my room.” He fluffed his feathers and let them settle so they weren’t mussed from him honestly not moving for a while.

“Ah,” Mars said and went into his room. She sat on his bed. “You two have fun?” she asked.

He joined her there, inviting his head to her lap. Desmond smiled, “Yeah. Even though I had her help me stay on schedule with the hormones.” His lips drew back over his teeth, and he buried his face against her leg.

“On sched- Desmond did you take an extra injection?” she asked him and frowned at him. “You’re supposed to take one every other day,” and yesterday had been his day. She sighed, “It isn’t a big deal though,” she added before Desmond thought he’d messed up. “But just let me do it okay?” she said and pet his head gently. “What’d you do while I was gone?” she asked changing subjects.

His wings twitched a little when he nodded. “We talked. About how the soldiers are assholes because their Keepers don’t let them remember anything. Sang, cuddled, the stuff we usually do.” Desmond shrugged with one of his wings.

Mars laughed, “You two are so gossipy I swear,” she said and ruffled his head feathers. “Good, I’m glad you two were well behaved while I was gone. You’ve been very good lately,” as she expected. He was being on his very best behavior. “Veles called me again,” she said after a short time.

Desmond had been snuggling against her when she mentioned Veles, and sat upright. “Altair?” He asked, fully meaning something more along the lines of ‘for matchmaking with Altair.’ It didn’t quite make it out eloquently.

Mars laughed again, “I told him you might not be available,” she told him gently. “But he doesn’t like putting Altair with other angels either,” the first cycle Veles had given Altair his memories back in full for helping win a battle. Altair had been so mad that Veles had mated him with other angels that weren’t Desmond or Adha he ended up getting killed in the next battle from being distracted by it. “I told him he might want to make arrangements with Ogoun if he can. You’re still a bit wobbly right now but hopefully you’ll be ready before the assault.”

He frowned. “Adha already has a match.” Desmond’s wings twitched again and he fidgeted. “I have to be ready,” he said, whining. It was Altair, he had to be ready. He felt pretty miserable for quite possibly setting himself back a few days with the stunt he pulled - but shit, he was a father for once, too.

“You will be,” Mars promised him. “Week and a half more of injections and you’re done,” she patted his knee. Though they both knew it was a close cut. “Then I get to deal with having a baby angel in the house,” she sighed. She didn’t like children. Desmond was her exception, but she didn’t even like his kids and baby angels were so... loud and squeaky.

Desmond cooed and chirped at Mars, pressing his nose against her cheek. “I’m always good with my fledgelings,” he said, indignant. Mars just complained a lot.

“I know you are,” Mars smiled at him, “but they’re so loud,” children were loud. She liked it when it was just her and Desmond and no babies, though she knew Desmond liked them. When he had a kid or Adha did he was nearly unbearably adorable. Though Desmond used the male pronouns he had just as much maternal instincts as any other breeder and if Adha ever brought her kid around when Desmond didn’t have one it gave Mars actual cavities. It was really cute. So long as she didn’t have to do anything with them.

She sighed and sat back, “So where’s the injector? Since I know you have it since you never put anything back.”

Desmond pointed to the case at the far side of his bed. “Um... I’m hungry - Adha and I didn’t eat.” He looked away, “Can I make something special?” Since he’d been so absolutely well behaved and he would have his chance with Altair.

Mars picked up the case and opened it. Just one of the injections was missing. Funny, she thought Adha would have been better about it and not let Desmond do this. She closed the case again. “Sure,” she said and ran her hand once through Desmond’s head feathers. “I’ll be in my office if you need me,” she patted his cheek and got up and left him to make his way to the kitchen.

He trilled quietly, brightening a bit. Desmond skittered into the kitchen, and began putting together something for himself to eat. Mars wasn’t bad at cooking for an angel - well, cooking was putting it incredibly loosely. Other than bread, rice, couscous or quinoa, they didn’t eat anything that was actually cooked. Desmond, personally, could hardly stomach vegetables, raw or cooked anymore, but fruit was definitely one of his favorites even though the fiber made him ache.

Desmond took the food - sweet and sour chunks of beef with a sliced up mango - and returned to his room.. He didn’t care if it messed with his digestive system, he fucking loved mangos.


	9. Soak You In

Whoever Altair was expecting when he opened the door it wasn't the short proeathan who still looked like she could snap him in half with her tongue. What was she even wearing? He could see her knees. People let her get away with that? "Uh... hello," Altair said a bit awkwardly, "I'm-

"Altair. I know. We've been waiting for you, come in," she opened the enough for Altair to enter. "I'm Mars, Desmond is in his room."

He didn't... really want to be here. Malik had told him to just shut up and enjoy himself but Altair didn't really see how or why. Veles, his Keeper, had been very specific about what he was supposed to do and how he was supposed to do it and he wasn't to be his normal brash, soldier, self. Apparently Mars had threatened actual bodily harm if Altair was another Daniel. Altair knew who Daniel was but he didn't know what that meant. He assumed it was a bad thing. But really he would rather being off preparing for the assault. Instead he had to spend two or three days here canoodling with a breeder. Not just any breeder either; Desmond. He'd actually tried to convince Veles otherwise when he'd told Altair his matchmaking partner was Desmond.

As soon as he entered the house he could smell the other angel. The scent went right to his head to the point he was surprised. But then he'd never been around a breeder, other than his mother, this cycle. He was surprised how much he suddenly wanted to see Desmond. That was a sentence he never thought he'd think in his life.

"So, do I get to see him?" Altair asked.

"Yes, go sit," Mars ordered and pointed to a padded stool for angels. She sat across from him. "Desmond," she called.

Desmond peeked into the room before he actually came in. He was actually nervous, even a little shy. He hopped onto the second stool, wings folding at his back with a rustle. The tunic he was wearing was one of his better ones even though he knew it wouldn't matter what he wore to Altair.

It had only been a few days since his last injection, but there was no trace that he had been anything other than a breeder. Aside from his height. Desmond touched the scar on his lip, suddenly overly conscious of it.

Mars looked over the two angels and was satisfied that Desmond looked nothing like Altair. Sure he was still big but Altair had an air about him of a soldier and Desmond very much a breeder. She smiled a little, glad, and hooked a leg over her knee. "So, Altair, I assume Veles told you the rules?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said and she liked him already. Desmond never called her ma'am, though it did make her feel old.

"Good. I've had to go through a mess from one soldier already in the past month. You mess with my angel and I will make sure you don't get to go on the assault," her foot tapped the air.

Altair swallowed, "Yes, ma'am," he said.

She smiled, "Good. Desmond, you can do what you want. Don't scare him and don't antagonize him," she gave him a stern look. She knew she didn't have to tell him. This was Altair. He would literally bend over backwards for this angel and do whatever he could to make Altair like him. But she'd thought a bit similarly about Daniel and that had been a complete mess.

Desmond nodded. "I won't," he promised, though he really only had attention for Altair as usual. It was a stark contrast from how he went about dealing with Daniel. "You don't get to scare him off either." He shot a look at her, then glanced back at Altair. Desmond couldn't stop fidgeting. It was so stupid! Part of it, Desmond thought he could blame on the fact that he'd pretty much been boosted on hormones.

"I'm the Keeper here. I can do whatever I want," Mars said as she got up from her chair. "I'm going to relax, don't break anything," she ran her fingers through Desmond's head feathers as she walked past and out of the room.

He frowned at her, but still cooed softly when she ruffled his feathers. Desmond slid off of the stool and moved over to Altair, tugging him off of his seat. "Do you want anything? Before you decide you don't want to leave my room."

Altair's mouth just sort of opened and closed a few times to that. Like did that... did Desmond really just say that to him? At that moment though he couldn't actually think of anything. His brain was just off because Desmond was less than five feet from him and he smelled like something Altair needed to lick and bury his face in. He honestly couldn't even explain it or why he wanted to do that so badly either. Desmond had never smelled like this all the times Altair had seen him or been within easy sniffing range. Since when the hell did the older angel have any right to smell so good?

He squeezed his eyes shut; focus. Desmond clearly knew what he was talking about though so maybe he should take that 'don't want to leave my room' seriously. But he couldn't think of anything. Veles had told him breeders knew what they were doing when it came to sex and that he shouldn't actually try to do anything unless prompted to. Desmond was prompting him but every thought was currently out of his head.

He opened his eyes a few seconds later. "I don't... no," he said and shook his head. No he didn't need anything. He just wanted to get an upclose and personal inspection of Desmond's smell.

Desmond didn't feel like he had to hold his knowledge over Altair, he never really had even though he complained about it all the time. If he was totally honest, it was kind of adorable - Altair was completely enthralled. His wings twitched, and he moved away again, toward his room.

His feathers were held out somewhat, spread as if he were waiting for the exact moment to jump into the wind. Of course, he wouldn't be, but it showed how acutely aware he was.

Altair wouldn't admit to it later, but he flailed a little to get off the stool, his big wings tripping him a little. He followed a few paces behind Desmond and wasn't really... quite sure why. He'd scoffed at Malik about this but now he saw why Malik told him he was an idiot. He really didn't know anything. Angels were creatures driven by hormones, instinct, and the songs of their Keepers and right now two of those three were in high gear for Altair. He didn't even know how this entire thing was supposed to happen (Veles told him breeders had a much longer courtship than soldiers did) all he knew was he was ready to mate.

There was a curious twitter of a chirp out of Desmond's mouth, and he flopped down on his bed. The mess of pillows he had been moved and rearranged, but it was still very much a nest. Probably even more, considering he was in a state equivalent to being in heat, and he was with a soldier - Altair, no less.

Desmond beckoned him with his wings, spreading them in a low sweep. Altair smelled pretty damn good himself. Desmond was just better at not letting it get to him, but he really wanted to press his nose against his skin, preen his feathers and sing quiet nonsense at him. And for Altair, it would be like nothing he'd ever experienced before - as long as he could stop the soldier from just fucking him raw.

The smell in Desmond's room was intensified. He could smell Desmond here clearly but also Mars and a bit more faded was another angel. Altair was used to the smell of other soldiers everywhere in his life. But this wasn't a soldier, he could tell even from how faded it was, like they hadn't visited in a week or so, another breeder like Desmond. They smelled good too.

He tore his eyes away from Desmond briefly, just to look around, there were plants in the room and a few, gleaming, weapons on the wall. Everything looked well tended to, and clearly Desmond took care of everything he owned. He looked back at the older angel and sat on the bed.

"My Keeper told me to not do anything unless you told me to," Altair said. Veles had said that, but not quite like that. He'd said some other soldier had already botched his matchmaking with Desmond because one; he was picky, and two; the soldier had gone way too fast. Altair didn't know how he was going to work around the picky part but Veles hadn't seemed concerned, so Altair tried not to be. Veles had told him to let Desmond lead and that if he started doing too much too fast not only would Mars rain down hell upon both of them but Veles would make his next cycle very unpleasant. So Altair was just being honest, he didn't know what he was doing, and his Keeper had told him so, and so he was just going to sit there until Desmond told him it was okay, no matter how badly he wanted to lick him.

Desmond cooed again, smiling a little. "It's fine. You just have to not do what I tell you not to do. I say no to something, you stop doing it, but you're lucky," He looked away, wings still open, but angled in an inviting way rather than aggressively. "I like you, you'll probably get away with a lot."

"You have to get used to me. Well... you, I mean... because you don't... you've never been with a breeder." He moved closer to Altair, on the balls of his feet. "We won't... really do anything until tomorrow - you'll know when I'm really ready, you'll be able to tell."

"Okay," Altair said but he was honestly sort of confused. He wouldn't even begin to say he was nice to Desmond. Or ever had been. He wasn't. In all honesty he was a jerk to Desmond and found him annoying and freaky and wished he'd just fuck off. He'd been really surprised when Veles had told him who he was mating with. He told Veles about Desmond and how much he wished Desmond would just fuck off and leave him alone. But he was an asshole to Desmond.

"Why do you like me?" Altair asked, confused, "I've never been nice to you," because he hadn't. He liked to think he wasn't mean at least, but he wasn't nice to Desmond. The only 'mean' thing he'd really ever done was give Desmond that scar on his lip. Something ticked in the back of his mind he knew was a blocked memory. He didn't know what it was but he felt smug that it had actually scarred.

There was a fleeting look of sadness behind his eyes, and Desmond shuffled his wings. "You don't know, and you know there's a reason there are things you don't know - it doesn't matter." Desmond's gaze lit slowly, and it was mirrored in his feathers.

Desmond was close enough now to touch the scar on Altair's lip, and he did, head tipped to the side. It meant a lot more to Desmond than it did to Altair, with the way he was now. He wondered if it always meant more to him even when Altair's memory wasn't blocked. "I do wish you'd at least tolerate me when we aren't just acting on hormones," he muttered. "You don't have to take me seriously, you probably never will." Or never had.

It wasn't the time to bring up the fact that he was just as capable as Altair, and just as much a fighter. Though, with the air practically saturated with both party's hormones, it was hard to believe so. "You don't have to ask to touch me, just tell me what you're thinking."

Altair pursed his lips a little. He sort of knew that he and Desmond had history but he just wasn't privy to it. He knew because Desmond wouldn't spend so much time with an asshole like him if they weren't friends in another life. "For the record; I tolerate you a lot," Altair said. "Even when you fucking stare at me like a weirdo from the side of the practice court," that was literally Altair's least favorite thing ever. He hated when Desmond did that but one of the rules of the Academy was that unless you were instructed otherwise you were to ignore anyone else around you. Especially if they were a breeder who wasn't even supposed to be there.

He huffed. He wasn't here to be a jerk. He was here because they'd been paired together. Altair looked down because Veles had told him not to be an asshole. Malik had told him that too. Breeders weren't used to and didn't usually tolerate how crass and rude soldiers could be. So. Don't be an asshole.

Altair let his wings relax and sag against the nest bed. Desmond wanted to know what he was thinking? "Honestly I just want to smell you," he said and hoped that didn't sound weird. He'd smelled Desmond before, his scent often lingered on the sidelines of the training court. It never smelled like this. It never smelled this good.

"I like watching you. I got to watch you grow up for once." Well, it was sparingly, but Altair was fucking adorable when he was just barely out of his fluff. Desmond shrugged, settling down to sit completely again and pull Altair closer. "You can. You're actually... really well behaved." He liked that. Aside from the fact that the behavior was also cute.

"Despite what you, my Keeper, and my mentor think; I can be very well behaved," though he was interested in the fact that Desmond said he could. He didn't miss the fact that Desmond said that this time he got to watch Altair grow up and be awkward adolescence and have fluff and christ that was mortifying. Though Altair hadn't seen him till he was older that he could remember since he'd mostly grown up in the academy and only other soldiers were really allowed in the academy.

Altair leaned forward onto his hands and knees and edged himself closer before realizing that really, he was allowed to touch Desmond without having to worry about doing something wrong. So he pressed his nose against Desmond's chest and inhaled. He liked this smell so much. Altair couldn't exactly place the smell or why he liked it but it sort of reminded him of his mother weirdly enough. Clearly it was a breeder scent and obviously angels like Altair were drawn to it. His closed his eyes happily.

Desmond reached up and carefully combed through Altair's feathers, smoothing them back against his head. His cooing was more like a low, steady sound. Almost like a purr. "I know." One of his wings folded around Altair.

After that, Desmond's hands wandered, from cradling his head to rubbing his shoulders, or finding the patch of feathers on Altair's back, between his wings.

Altair made a pleased sound and pressed up closer to Desmond to bury his face in the feathers on Desmond's chest. He nuzzled his chest and then moved to smooth skin and ran his tongue against it because he couldn't help himself. Desmond's skin tasted like skin, which was disappointing. That didn't stop Altair from enjoying Desmond's smell though and literally wanting to rub all over him to get Desmond's good smell on him. He assumed that was normal.

He pushed Desmond back a bit, stopped to make sure that was all right, and then pushed him back further so he could lean over Desmond and rub his face against his chest and neck and even down to his soft belly. His feathers stood up, and he knew they weren't making him look intimidating so much as making him look like a giant fluff ball.

When Altair leaned him back, Desmond hummed, the glowing feathers matching his heart beat. It spiked a bit, but he was honestly a little curious. Altair was a little different each time he came back, and he assumed it was because blocking memories wasn't an exact science. He was a lot less pushier this time, and unlike with Daniel, he felt safe letting Altair explore him and his instincts without him getting ahead of himself.

Desmond gently teased Altair's feathers, tracing the edges of them. He stopped trying to smooth them out when they began to rise. What he couldn't stop was the soft cooing at him.

Altair sat up abruptly and looked down at Desmond. "My mentor's been with a breeder more than once this cycle," since unlike Altair Malik wasn't a virgin. "He said his mate liked to kiss him. How do you kiss?" Soldiers didn't kiss. It wasn't something they did in general even when they experimented. No kissing. They barely even looked at each other during sex. Kissing was a thing Altair had only heard about and seen his Keeper do with his wife on the lips, or kiss his daughter on the cheek.

He smiled a small, almost amused kind of smile, and pulled Altair close to his face. He was just too fucking cute, it was unfair. Desmond pushed himself up a little more, one hand still cupped against the side of his head, and kissed him. He took it slow, teaching him by doing. Desmond couldn't resist licking Altair's upper lip, tongue flicking over the scar before pushing into his mouth.

Desmond gave another push against Altair's mouth, and then withdrew somewhat, breath just a little more forceful. He couldn't help littering a few more partially open-mouthed kisses against the corner of his mouth and his chin, thumb rubbing over Altair's cheek.

Altair's breath was a bit heavy when Desmond pulled away. He hadn't been expecting anything like that. He blinked several times in surprise just sort of sorting himself out about that. The whole tongue in mouth thing was sort of unsettling but Desmond had done it so he didn't think that it was too weird. He liked the way Desmond tasted though. Unlike his skin Desmond's mouth tasted good and like how he smelled.

All in all, Altair decided he liked kissing and no wonder soldiers didn't do it because it was soft. Soldiers were a lot of things. Soft wasn't one of them. Desmond was soft all over. Altair liked that. He wanted to find all of Desmond's soft spots.

He kissed Desmond again carefully. He wasn't very good at this and kudos to Desmond for putting up for him. All of this was going to be him stumbling through all these soft things for the first time and he just hoped he didn't try Desmond's nerve.

Desmond didn't really take over, but he kind of guided and prompted Altair, and definitely let him know when he liked something. Either with a soft noise or a slight squeeze. He didn't have to do much, and was honestly totally fine with letting Altair figure it out on his own. There was something weirdly calming about it, probably that Altair was his mate, and he always somehow fit just right.

He could spend hours like this, sucking on Altair's tongue, kissing him, rubbing his shoulders, chest and arms. "What else do you want to know?" Desmond asked, knowing Altair would not be so satisfied.

"I dunno I'm kinda really into this," Altair said, breath slightly ragged. He was into this making out thing. He started and sat up straight. He had no concept of making out so that meant some part of his memory had leached through for him to even know what it was. He sagged just a little then because he just let it pass. Wasn't important. If the memory would come it would and there was no forcing it.

"Is there other stuff?" he asked and flared his big wings out a little.

Desmond shrugged. "Cuddling, preening... not really," he admitted, reaching up to touch the large feathers on Altair's wings. His own were half spread on the bed, mostly just to keep them from getting caught under him. "I want to be close to you just as much as you want to be close to me," he said, having successfully kept back a whine at Altair's sudden withdrawal. He was talking more about the urge to try and tuck himself securely against Altair, and Altair's partnered urge to pretty much bury himself in Desmond's scent and feathers.

He coaxed Altair back, not quite pulling, but getting just a little more insistent with his hands.

Altair was willing to go. He nuzzled against Desmond's neck since that seemed like a place where the smell was concentrated. He ran his tongue along Desmond's neck even though he knew the smell didn't translate to taste, but he did it anyway. He let himself lay out on top of Desmond taking his words seriously.

He chirped, and it faded into a warble when Altair licked him. Desmond's wings twitched, and everything was absolutely fine. Even though he didn't need the golden feathers glowing to pique Altair, they were the most accurate visual cue to his interest. As a cue in general, they were second to his scent. Desmond knew that his body would need a day before accepting that Altair was to be his mate.

It wasn't like him and Adha, where Desmond knew how to manipulate her body to set her up just right. On the other hand, though, he didn't have the heart to tell Altair exactly how to do it. He wanted to spend time with him, not fuck as soon as possible just to watch him leave again like it was an impersonal affair. Desmond was content to just lie beneath him, cooing with his chin tucked against Altair's head.

When Desmond moved Altair lifted his head to make sure everything was alright. His eyes caught the glint of golden feathers. Altair knew Desmond had golden, shiny, feathers mixed in with his normal ones. He'd seen Desmond with spread wings and flying. They weren't new. But they had a completely different (distracting) context.

He sort of sat up and then reached over to run his fingers across the golden feathers. Altair realized that there was probably strong scents in Desmond's wings and pressed his face down into them. Sure enough there was. He hummed happily and ended on a chirp. He was like a cat and Desmond was catnip. He just wanted to roll all over him. "Shiny," he said more to himself and ran his fingers across some of the golden feathers. He liked them.

Desmond ended up with both wings around Altair, even with his face buried in his feathers. He twittered and chirped himself, as if responding to the sounds Altair made conversationally.

"Do you want one?" he asked softly, interrupting the wordless almost-singing noises he was making.

Altair looked at him in surprise, "I can have one?" he asked. He hadn't expected that. Giving another angel your feathers wasn't just something you did lightly. Except when they molted once a year angels kept close stock of their feathers since they literally needed every one to fly.

The only light under his wings was the glow radiating from those feathers, his eyes, and the markings on his arm. "You're my mate," Desmond responded, like that explained everything. "You're always my mate."

Altair blinked. Veles had never mentioned something like that. Most angels were put together as needed or to see how a certain set of genes worked out as a child. But if he and Desmond were always mates that was something more. Altair sat up and squeezed his eyes shut. He suddenly had a massive headache. He knew that was his past lives trying to get through and be remembered. "Stop," he sort of groaned, both to the incessant memories and to Desmond.

In the academy memories were controlled so that you know knew what you needed to know. Talk about past lives wasn't even discussed because it could trigger an attack like this. Altair whined, his head hurt so bad and he leaned down so he was folded over his knees, holding his head, forehead on the bed. His wings came up over him between him and Desmond. He was just trying to forget, to push the flood pressing against the dam back.

Angels could do things no other creatures could do; they could actively forget a memory. Altair was doing that now. Desmond bringing up what they had been, clearly close, probably life-mates, had triggered him and now he just wanted to forget all of it. Including what Desmond had just said. But there was a lot of delete. He'd get them back later. But now he couldn't have them, he needed to be focused.


	10. How it Should Be

Desmond clicked his tongue. It had been stupid to bring that up, even if it had been unthinkingly. He had ways of fixing it - or rather, he knew how most Keepers blocked those memories.

He gently tugged Altair's wings apart, knowing the strain of actively forgetting. There was no expression on his face, nothing that linked him directly to Altair's memories of him aside from his appearance. Desmond cooed something in a language that wasn't exactly words. Their Keepers used artifacts, mostly owning ones such as the Apple. Desmond's proficiency with weaponizing them gave him plenty of insight to how they functioned, and though he could not replicate the effect, he could mimic its 'voice' like a magpie mimicking a different bird.

The glow intensified, and then stopped when he did. Desmond let go of Altair's wings and withdrew.

Altair opened his eyes and was sort of confused. There was always a momentary confusion after a memory purge. His wings flared a little and he quickly sorted out his head. He knew he'd just done a memory purge but everything from the last few minutes was wiped. He thought at least. It was hard to tell time after a purge. He just knew he was missing time. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?" though he knew Desmond knew what had just happened. Desmond wouldn't bring up what had triggered him, but Altair didn't know how to come back from a purge. It happened so infrequently.

"It wasn't important." Desmond didn't look upset about it. He was, but he wouldn't for Altair's sake. His head tipped to the side, and he chose to kiss him again rather than elaborate.

Altair grunted, now surprised. Okay. He could like this. He was completely awful at it but he liked it. Something told him he should know how to do this. Took him about a minute to get the memories he'd just had about kissing Desmond to trickle back in. Well that was embarrassing. He'd forgotten how to kiss. Not like he hadn't just learned it recently but still.

"I'll remind you about it after the assault," Altair said, since that would be when he'd get all his memories back, including whatever the hell he'd just thrown out of his head. He nuzzled against Desmond's neck because he smelled nice. A not so little part of him knew he'd be smelling like Desmond when he left here, and he didn't mind one bit. Breeders smelled safe. Altair wouldn't mind that.

Desmond trilled softly, more or less letting Altair do what he wanted. "You don't have to. You just have to come back," he answered, mostly mumbling. The glow didn't come back until he actually keened - Altair pressing his nose and lips against his neck was just as good, but it wasn't enough.

Altair hmmed against Desmond's neck, enjoying the thick scent on Desmond's neck and throat and behind his ear, but he picked up on Desmond's restlessness. "Is everything okay?" he asked asked, sitting back. "Am I doing something wrong?" or not doing something enough? He was still a fish out of water, especially since he'd just purged a whole batch of memories.

Altair opened his eyes and was sort of confused. There was always a momentary confusion after a memory purge. His wings flared a little and he quickly sorted out his head. He knew he'd just done a memory purge but everything from the last few minutes was wiped. He thought at least. It was hard to tell time after a purge. He just knew he was missing time. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?" though he knew Desmond knew what had just happened. Desmond wouldn't bring up what had triggered him, but Altair didn't know how to come back from a purge. It happened so infrequently.

"It wasn't important." Desmond didn't look upset about it. He was, but he wouldn't for Altair's sake. His head tipped to the side, and he chose to kiss him again rather than elaborate.

Altair grunted, now surprised. Okay. He could like this. He was completely awful at it but he liked it. Something told him he should know how to do this. Took him about a minute to get the memories he'd just had about kissing Desmond to trickle back in. Well that was embarrassing. He'd forgotten how to kiss. Not like he hadn't just learned it recently but still.

"I'll remind you about it after the assault," Altair said, since that would be when he'd get all his memories back, including whatever the hell he'd just thrown out of his head. He nuzzled against Desmond's neck because he smelled nice. A not so little part of him knew he'd be smelling like Desmond when he left here, and he didn't mind one bit. Breeders smelled safe. Altair wouldn't mind that.

Desmond trilled softly, more or less letting Altair do what he wanted. "You don't have to. You just have to come back," he answered, mostly mumbling. The glow didn't come back until he actually keened - Altair pressing his nose and lips against his neck was just as good, but it wasn't enough.

Altair hmmed against Desmond's neck, enjoying the thick scent on Desmond's neck and throat and behind his ear, but he picked up on Desmond's restlessness. "Is everything okay?" he asked asked, sitting back. "Am I doing something wrong?" or not doing something enough? He was still a fish out of water, especially since he'd just purged a whole batch of memories.

"You're fine," Desmond murmured. His wings twitched, and he dragged Altaïr back. "Stop thinking about it."

He pushed up against Altair's hips with his own, hissing. Seriously, soldiers were so sex stupid. Desmond purred, grinding against him again. He'd be fine falling asleep curled up against Altaïr with just that, but he was pretty damn ready.

"Sorry," Altair said, some of his feathers perked up when Desmond pushed against him. That felt good though in not the way he was expecting. So he just went back to what he had been doing which was kissing Desmond's neck and running his hands up the line of Desmond's back.

Desmond cooed, sinking back into Altair's hands. Other than that, he was more or less silent, eyes slipping closed. He resolved not to tell Altair what he should do. Besides, he wasn't doing anything uncomfortable, and letting him explore was honestly the most adorable he had ever remembered Altair even being.

After mapping out Desmond's back and sides and the parts of the wings he could reach with his hands, and turning the side of Desmond's neck into a red mark, Altair pushed him back onto the bed. He pressed his face into the feathers on Desmond's chest, enjoying the scent. He still didn't know why he found Desmond's scent so enjoyable in the same way he found another soldier's slightly repugnant. But he did.

He wound his fingers through the feathers on Altair's head, purring up a storm beneath him. Desmond's hips twitched, and he warbled at him, barely steps away from outright keening.

Altair kissed parts of Desmond skin he could reach and purred himself. He wasn't a breeder like Desmond but all angels liked getting preened of having fingers in their feathers. He laid his head on Desmond's chest as Desmond pet his head and listened to the beat of Desmond's heart which beat faster than a human's or proeathan. More like the beating heart of a bird.

"Do you want more?" Desmond asked, wings twitching. He, of course, did, but Altair had no real concept aside from the fact that sex happened somehow. He had also begun to maneuver the slightly larger soldier to switch their positions.

Altair perked up, his feathers fluffing out a little all over, "More? You said there wasn't really any more," except the sex part but he'd concluded by now that that was a ways off. Desmond had said he'd know when Desmond was ready to mate and so far he wasn't really getting the vibe.

Desmond almost laughed. "Come on, there's more to touch than just my chest," he said, nuzzling against Altair's jaw. His wings flared a bit and he grabbed Altair's hand, leading it along his front.

It wouldn't hurt while he was basically leading the soldier by the hand, but he really, really liked how Altair's fingers felt between his legs. Desmond's hips twitched even more than his wings did, and the soft warble in his throat wasn't lost too badly between his breaths.

"Oh," Altair said and quickly got the idea. He had to remind himself though that this wasn't one of his fellow soldiers he could rough up. This was a breeder. He knew how to bend someone into a knot but he couldn't do that here.

"So, like this?" he asked sort of between Desmond's legs and ran his hands along the outside. He kept the sharp parts of his claws away from the delicate skin though. Desmond kept trying to press against him so Altair figured he might as well give Desmond to move against. He pulled Desmond's legs around his waist and ran his hands up his thighs.

He purred, and it was a low rumble of a sound that had Desmond's feathers fluffed but not quite bristling. The noise itself was like a growl, starting rough and deep in his chest, but by the time it got to his mouth, it was softened and warbling. When his eyes opened fully, they were glowing again, but it was darker than before.

Desmond didn't seem to mind much that Altair's fingers kept straying. He'd fit himself rather nicely against the mound of the soldier's pubic arch. It wasn't fair. Altair wasn't supposed to be… that arousing. At least, not mentally, but there he was, next to clueless and Desmond found it surprisingly attractive.

Any breeder could be physically aroused by a soldier, that was how they were made. It took some coercion, and not many needed to actually feel as if they liked their company. Of course, Desmond refused any other partner, and was one of the picky few who felt like they needed to be wholly invested - and Altair was the soldier he wanted to invest himself in. It made him desperate and useless otherwise, and he knew it, would even admit it and the fact that he hated it, but it was a totally different story when Altair was actually there, and reacting to him even if it was only because he was a breeder.

"Paying attention?" Desmond murmured, mouth at Altair's ear. He made space between the both of them, just enough for him to fit his hand against Altair's body. There was no need for him to look to see what he was doing, Desmond's fingers knew the best way to slide against the side of his sheath so it felt really damn good.

Altair's head jerked up and he squeaked. Actually squeaked like he was a stupid fledgling again full of fluffy down feathers and barely enough memories to fill one life. His wings and feathers went up, flaring, and then they smoothed down and he cooed happily, his eyes lidding.

Okay that felt really good. Usually when soldiers experimented they just beat eachother up to put the other in submission before fucking them. It felt good, briefly, but they never tried to actually make each other feel good. "Yeah," he moaned a little, his voice trembling slightly. How the hell did Desmond do that?

He grinned, kissing and gently biting at Altair's neck. It was more like he was dragging his teeth against his skin than anything. Desmond only played with his cloaca because he knew how good it felt, but he kept it to a minimum because it was also one of the easiest ways to piss off a soldier.

Something about it being too much like a breeder. Not that any of them remembered that both of them were just as apt when it came to fighting, and honestly, using the entire area was common for both castes. It was really only one of the few reasons Desmond hated that they weren't allowed to remember anything.

Desmond ran his thumb over the slit of Altair's sheath again, actually somewhat surprised that he wasn't even peeking from it.

Altair chirped happily and rocked his hips forward. He really liked that. He didn't quite know what Desmond was doing but he knew he as touching a part of his anatomy he previously didn't know could feel that good. Yeah he knew it could feel good but Desmond was just touching it. Altair wanted Desmond to touch him like that more and a lot more. "That feels really good," he groaned and rocked his hips against Desmond again.

The feathers on Desmond's head rose and he cooed back at him, just as happy to keep rubbing him as long as he enjoyed it so much. "You could try doing it to me - I mean, you are supposed to mate with me," he said, still wary of actually penetrating Altair with his fingers. It didn't mean he didn't tease the fuck out of him, nearly whimpering with how it was affecting Altair.

"Mmmm?" Altair asked, cocking his head to the side. "Okay," he said because he was just listening and doing whatever Desmond wanted him to do basically. Veles had said that. Just do with his mate told him when he told him. He flexed one of his hands and actually felt what Desmond was doing. He noted that Desmond was being careful with his.

Altair sat up, because unlike Desmond Altair needed to see what he was doing. He ran his fingers slowly down Desmond's chest and stomach. He pushed up Desmond's tunic so he could see what he was doing, hiking it up Desmond's ribs. "So, like this?" he asked and being careful of his claws pressed his finger against it.

Desmond shuddered, trying not to let his hips roll too forcefully against Altair's fingers. He sighed a soft "Yeah," and pressed his hand against Altair's sheath. "You don't look like you're ready though." He nuzzled against him, and stole a couple of quick kisses from him.

"Don't you want to fuck me?" Desmond punctuated the question by actually sliding his index finger into Altair, incredibly mindful of his talons.

Altair went rigid. He didn't get a lot of the things he and Desmond but this he knew he didn't like. His feathers bristled, and there was a big difference between flared feathers and when they bristled, though only really angels could tell the difference. He growled a little, "Whatever you're doing, stop it," he said and narrowed his eyes at Desmond. If Desmond didn't he was going to make Desmond stop.

He had the audacity to snicker, and when he pulled his hand away, dragged his fingers over each little inch of sensitive skin. Desmond met Altair's irritated glare with a glowing, dangerously aroused look. "You liked it so much earlier," he murmured, "and that isn't much of an answer."

Altair let his feathers lay flat since Desmond wasn't doing the thing he didn't like. "You said we weren't going to mate till tomorrow," he said because Desmond had.

Desmond slumped, and it wasn't just that he kind of sank back, his wings slouched too. "We can have sex more than just once," he said. "If you don't want it, then fine, we won't." He hated telling Altair when he was ready. It was supposed to be obvious, and Altair was supposed to want to fuck him.

"We can?" Altair asked, the feathers on his head going up a little. He'd been trying to be on his best behavior. So just… holding back really until Desmond told him it was okay. Altair sat back on his calves, "I uh… wouldn't mind," he glanced down as he unsheathed fully. He'd been keeping it back since Desmond had said tomorrow and he didn't want to be pushy. But really as soon as he'd stepped into Mars' house he'd been aroused. Now it was just obvious.

He made a soft sound that wasn't exactly cooing, and his wings rose up again. Honestly, Altair's self control was surprising and actually kind of hot. Desmond's reaction was more driven by Altair's caste and the fact that he'd unsheathed. "Stop thinking about it, just stop."

His body had already forgotten Daniel's rough misuse, and even though Altair was just as clueless as he had been, Desmond was more than ready. "You don't think about what you're doing when you fight," he said, "you just do it." He sidled up against Altair again, up on his knees, "Just like you don't need to think about it when you fuck." He knew Altair had to have been absolutely aching.

"I'm just doing what you told me to do," Altair said, like Velas had told him too. "And I don't think you want me to do to you what I do in a fight," because he fucked up other angels in a fight. Yeah he wasn't as old but his past lives were all lined up in a row to make him a fighting machine. Most soldiers were flawless in a fight, Altair was no different, since he had centuries and centuries of ability and memory and training behind him. "I'm not supposed to hurt you," he said.

Desmond almost snorted. "I know how you fight, and I also know you won't. You don't remember the finer details, but your body does." He prodded Altair's chest. "Besides, I'm not a threat to you." He was a willing and aroused mate, and he wasn't actively trying to anger Altair like he had Daniel. Though it didn't help that he did often enjoy being handled roughly.

He dragged himself against Altair, wings spreading while his feathers flared a bit. "It's fine," Desmond purred, "I can fuck myself if you're that worried you'll hurt me." His grin was more of a toothy smirk.

He didn't quite know what that meant, but Altair knew he wanted to see Desmond do that. He wasn't worried about hurting Desmond exactly, more like he'd forget his own strength. Breeders weren't exactly made of the same stuff as soldiers. Yeah they were sturdier than humans or proeathans but soldiers were strong enough to break each other's bones. "Okay," he said and licked his lips.

Desmond pulled away somewhat, and took a few moments to make sure he was actually ready. It wasn't exactly necessary, but more of a habit. He didn't warn Altair before sinking down on his cock with a shaky, heated warble. Doing it like that, taking all of him in pretty much one go hurt as much as it felt good. He could stand being fucked furiously and violently, so it didn't exactly injure him, but it definitely felt better than the former.

The golden feathers littered across his wings flickered, making the skip in his pulse visible. Desmond really meant it when he said he would fuck himself, and didn't even give himself time to adjust before moving. His wings weren't raised so much as they were splayed low around them.

Altair squawked in surprise when Desmond straddled him and pushed himself onto him. Then he moaned because it was good. It really didn't feel like another soldier and thank goodness. It felt completely and utterly amazing though. He gasped and grasped at Desmond's back, low, happy, noises escaping his mouth each time Desmond moved.

He wasn't going to admit it to Malik later; but Malik was totally right about breeders.

Desmond was a lot better at doing this himself than most soldiers were on their own. He keened, wings trembling somewhat as they flicked back. His feathers were fluffed out, and he was urging Altair to actually grab and pull them even further.

He groaned happily because it felt good and one hand cupped Desmond's ass with one hand, the other grabbed one of Desmond's wings and yanked it down making all the muscles and tendons in Desmond's back bend and bow. His hips jerked upwards a bit, grunting needily and squeezed Desmond's ass, maybe being not so mindful of his claws as he shouldn't have been. Altair put his head over Desmond's shoulder, face pressed into Desmond's wing and pushed his hips up and Desmond's wing down whenever Desmond did. He whined happily each time he pushed up.

The sounds he made were more like twittering chirps than moans. Desmond tightened around him in response to the claws pricking his cheeks, but he wasn't irritated about it. Scratches were a usual kind of thing, and Desmond never really minded them.

He met each upward thrust of Altair's hips by grinding down against him. Really, he'd meant to speak in a way Altair would understand him, but his voice was a mess of trills and cooing. It was clear that he swore, though. More than once.

Altair answered Desmond back with his own trills and cooing, running his fingers through one of Desmond's wings and clenched Desmond's ass, thrusting upwards quickly. All at once he gasped and buried his face into Desmond's neck and shoved his wing down.

He breathed deeply into Desmond's skin, moaning softly. Oh fuck that felt good. He melted against Desmond, and let go of his ass and wing.

Desmond wasn't anywhere near as finished as Altair was. He actually growled a little, still rocking on him until he couldn't get anything else out of the soldier. His wings flared and he moved away from Altair to finish himself, fully expecting Altair to just pass out like that, and kind of ceased paying him any mind. Not while he was coaxing himself out of his sheath with one hand and minding his claws while fucking himself on the other.

Altair flopped down onto Desmond's bed and closed his eyes for a few moments but didn't sleep. He felt really tired but he figured it'd be rude if he just fell asleep on Desmond. When he opened his eyes again Desmond wasn't even paying attention to him. He frowned. Right now he was liking Desmond paying attention to him.

Altair pushed himself to his hands and knees and literally pushed himself into Desmond's space so the breeder couldn't ignore him, pressing up against his back between his wings. He pressed his nose behind Desmond's ear before looking at what he was doing. Well shit even he couldn't screw up touching Desmond's dick, he could do that. He pressed his hand around Desmond's before just pushing it away. He squeezed Desmond's penis firmly and jerked him off with even strokes.

He whimpered and turned toward Altair's face. Desmond's fingers wound into the feathers on Altair's head, and managed to match the rhythm of the soldier's hand. "I thought… you were just going to fall asleep," Desmond managed, wings twitching. It was a nice turn of events, even if Altair's hand was just a tad rougher than his own.

"Not if you're not going to pay attention to me," Altair said, because it was true. In his mind he should be the most interesting thing to Desmond right now just like Desmond was to him. Falling asleep wasn't going to get him attention so it was counter productive to what he wanted. At least Desmond was liking what he was doing. So he just kept doing it, cooing gentle encouragement to Desmond who clearly didn't need it.

Desmond let out a slow, hitching breath, and there was a near-apology on his lips. He smiled and tugged him closer to kiss him. It took him a little longer to reach his orgasm, but when he did, he keened, and it sounded suspiciously like Altair's name.

Altair grinned as Desmond grabbed onto him tightly when he finally came. He kissed and sucked on Desmond's neck, wringing out all the good feelings from Desmond's dick. He didn't even bother to ask if it was okay, from the noises Desmond was making it was clearly great.

He curled against Altair, cooing and almost whining. Desmond knew, just like Adha had, that he'd been successfully bred. He didn't exactly have to tell Altair that, and he probably wouldn't until later on tomorrow. Right now he kind of just wanted to tangle himself in Altair's limbs and fall asleep to the sound of his breathing.

Altair wrapped his arms and wings around Desmond when the breeder started to snuggle up against him. Altair liked this, and the attention. After a moment Altair pulled the both of them down onto Desmond's. Now he knew he could take that nap he'd wanted to because now Desmond wasn't preoccupied with something that wasn't him. He found himself a comfortable position and closed his eyes. He'd sleep for just a little while.


	11. Don't Go

Desmond roused before Altair, and he wasn't really all that surprised. What did surprise him is that neither of them shifted too much while they slept, but he wriggled his way out of Altair's arms so he could run his fingers through the feathers on the soldier's head. He wasn't quite sure when he started, but Desmond began singing softly.

They'd… had a lot of sex, but he wouldn't admit that he probably worked Altair absolutely raw. Desmond cooed, gently scratching at Altair's scalp while he sang. He didn't really want to wake Altair up because it meant he'd have to leave, but Mars didn't really like him keeping Altair bedded for longer than necessary. Especially after a night like that.

While Desmond didn't need Altair around while he was actually carrying the child, he kind of liked his company. Even if he didn't remember that Desmond was practically attached to him at the hip. He told himself that it was only because he had to spend so long with an Altair that knew nothing of their relationship. Honestly, he never remembered being this clingy or needy.

Altair normally slept light and woke with the sun. Last night though Altair had slept like a rock. He dreamed of his mother (his mother this cycle at least), singing to him to wake up. Altair opened his eyes slowly, his eyelids felt like lead and were heavy and hard to open. There was singing, but it wasn't his mother, it was Desmond. Altair honestly couldn't even think about mating now, though his body was still in the drive to do so. He was just sort of sore and couldn't believe Desmond seemed to not be in some sort of pain from how much sex they'd had last night.

He chirped sleepily, blinking up at Desmond tiredly. He blinked a few times before shifting a little to put his head in Desmond's lap. "I don't want to have sex ever again," he complained in a low whine.

Continuing to card his fingers through Altair's feathers, Desmond laughed softly. "Somehow I don't think you'll actually adhere to that." He hummed, idly tracing designs against his scalp. Sure, Desmond ached a little - well, more than just a little - but he didn't mind it. He was warm, and Altair was in his lap. He didn't want much more than that.

Desmond blinked down at him and stopped singing.

Altair thrummed a little, happily, that Desmond was giving him this attention. Then Desmond stopped singing and Altair opened his eyes. "Something wrong?" he asked and tilted his head to the side.

He shook his head and trilled back at him. "You want me to keep singing?" Desmond didn't really wait for an answer, continuing to sing softly. His hands moved to Altair's wings while his own unfolded and curved around the both of them. Clearly, he didn't want Altair to get up and leave any time soon, though he really had no obligation to stay.

Altair closed his eyes again, he liked this song, it was soothing. After a few moments, now that he was awake, he allowed his voice to join Desmond's, it was very low where Desmond's was higher. Singing voices usually never completely lined up with their spoken ones. Singing was who they were, speaking was who they were supposed to be. Soldiers usually had lower ones, more dangerous and feral and very little range for an angel where breeder's were higher and had greater tone and range. Desmond sung way better than Altair but that didn't matter. Altair liked it same as Desmond. He brought his wings up next to Desmond's and brushed them against Desmond's.

He stopped singing after a while, to let Desmond sing by himself. "This is nice," Altair murmured and nuzzled Desmond's groin and thigh.

Desmond's voice didn't exactly hitch, but Altair's face between his legs certainly did something. He didn't let himself stop singing until the song was finished. He cooed and chirped, lifting Altair's head so he could nuzzle against his feathers and kiss his forehead.

Other than sex Altair's favorite thing now to do with non soldiers was kissing. He licked Desmond's lips before catching them between his teeth and kissing him slowly. To think he'd been bad at this just yesterday. After how much time his mouth had been against Desmond's he was pretty much excellent at it now. He pulled Desmond back down onto the bed and wrapped all his limbs around him.

He twittered at Altair, more than happy to kiss him back. Desmond let him do most of the work, simply getting a taste for his mouth again. His wings twitched and unfurled to block most of the light. Of course, he let the golden feathers he had wash them in a soft glow.

Altair sucked on Desmond's lower lip and tangled them up together and this was all really nice and Altair could honestly get used to this. Maybe not the numerous times they'd had sex in a row; but he could get used to this.

His head twisted around and some of his feathers bristled when someone knocked. "Desmond," Mars called. His feathers lay back down, it was nothing, just Desmond's Keeper.

Desmond pulled his wings back, head snapping up at the sound of Mars' voice. "A little busy?" he grumbled, but got up when she knocked again. He was pretty sure that Altair wasn't hard or anything - at least, he wasn't, but it wouldn't have been the first time Mars saw him like that. Desmond had little shame, and besides, she was his Keeper.

It took him a few moments to meet her eyes when he opened the door though.

Altair watched Desmond get up and go to the door, he didn't want to let Desmond go but when your Keeper called that was it. You went.

Mars looked at Desmond, then over his shoulder at Altair and then back to her angel. He had a few new scratches, maybe one that had drawn blood, but that was about it. No bruises. Better than the last time Altair had been in her home when Altair had barely been better than Daniel. She'd had a stern talking to Veles after that about making sure Altair knew better than to hurt the breeders, and more importantly her Desmond.

"Finally up I see," she said, "Veles just contacted me. Altair needs to go home, he wants to see him before the assault. So say goodbye. I told Veles he'd be home shortly," Mars said. She knew Desmond knew that he'd see Altair again.

Desmond whined at her, clearly unhappy about it. He sighed, and conceded with a nod. He still closed the door on her so he could say his goodbyes without her standing over his shoulder. Desmond pressed a chaste kiss against Altair's mouth.

"Which one do you want?" Desmond asked, gesturing to the glittering feathers throughout the regular ones in his wings.

Altair perked up, "I get one?" he asked. Soldier he might be but no angel was immune to sparkly things. Apparently that was why breeders tended to have shiny feathers, so they were more attractive towards soldiers. Altair didn't think they needed the feathers. They smelled great as it was.

He reached up and ran his hands across Desmond's wings, he didn't want too big a one since he didn't know where he'd put it. "This one," he said, it was a feather further up on Desmond's wing, nearly the length of Altair's hand.

Desmond reached up and plucked the feather. He gave it to Altair along with another kiss that ended up being more of him nuzzling against Altair's cheek. He really didn't want to let him leave.

Altair took the feather and after Desmond kissed him he put it behind his ear. It wasn't as long as his head feathers but he didn't care if it might have looked silly. He kissed Desmond again before getting up. Mars said he had to leave, that his Keeper wanted him, so he'd go. And while Altair wouldn't tell Desmond this, he didn't smell as nice as he had yesterday. Yesterday Altair had been all over him and it had gone right to his head. Now though it was just sort of normal angel smell. Altair wasn't quite as attracted to him as yesterday or last night. But, he wouldn't tell Desmond that. He'd probably get mad.

"I need to go," Altair said, slightly desperately, but also grinning when Desmond stood up and kept catching Altair's lips, silently asking him to stay.

His soft cooing kind of sounded like whimpers while he watched Altair leave. Adha was right though. It still hurt because Altair wasn't allowed to remember yet. He wasn't even allowed to say he'd miss him, or wanted him back safe. Especially since he slipped up and made him remember details he wasn't supposed to. Desmond heaved a sigh. He'd let himself mope around about it for a bit before pestering Mars for comfort food or something.

When Altair finally left the room he came face to face with Mars. Well rather, he had to look down to look at her but that was beside the point. "How did it go?" she asked him.

He honestly didn't know if it was good or bad that Mars was questioning him. He spent most of his life in the angel academy and if Altair didn't see other angels a lot he really didn't see other proeathans a lot. The entire place was regulated by angels with only the top angels getting to speak with the proeathans that ran the place. "Fine… I guess," he said awkwardly.

"Did you hurt him?"

"No!" he said crossly.

"Good," Mars said and smiled, "because I eat soldiers who hurt my Desmond for breakfast," and in those clothes Altair one hundred percent believed her. He followed her to the front door and he shook out his wings, grabbed the feather behind his ear so it didn't fall out, and took off.

Mars watched him go and went back inside and sent a message to Veles that Altair was on his way home. Then she went to Desmond's room and looked inside. Desmond was laying on his bed like he was dying. "He's gone now," she said gently and giggled with Desmond whined miserably. "He'll be back," she reminded him.

Desmond only continued to whine in response. He turned his head away from her, wings fluffed out. Really, he'd be fine in a while, and he did know what Mars was right, but there was still a large chance that a good number of the soldiers wouldn't be returning. Otherwise the council wouldn't have mandated that every available breeder be mated.

Chuckling a little Mars went into Desmond's room. Even without the extra strong sense of smell like the angels the smell in the room was strong. She sat down on the edge of the bed, because no way she was snuggling with Desmond in the middle after last night. "Why don't you clean yourself up, take off the sheets, and I'll make you something yummy?" she asked, leaning over to caress part of the wing of his she could reach. "Food is literally just as good as sex, and more reliable than any soldier."

He grunted, but pushed himself up. "It had better be really damn good food," Desmond said, gathering up what was soiled, along with his discarded tunic. He hardly remembered when it was tossed aside.

The more he worked, the less upset he got - not that he was particularly upset, just a little unhappy. Desmond preened himself, and did his best to wash off the scent, though he kind of liked that he smelled Altair on himself, Mars was not so keen on the smell of sex. Certainly when they'd gone at it as many times as they had.

Desmond came out of his room with a clean tunic on, led by his nose toward the kitchen.

Unlike a lot of other proeathans Mars didn't have human servants. She didn't like people in her house other than her or Desmond. She had a small crew of cleaners who came by one day a week to clean the house and make sure everything was in order and every few days had a service who delivered her groceries. But Mars cooked for herself and much like her taste in clothes Mars had a liking for human cuisine. Not that her people made bad food, it was just that she was pretty old (young for proeathans still), and had had lots of the foods. When they'd woken there were hundreds of new cuisines and Mars liked to try them all and make Desmond try them too.

Right now she was making Desmond's favorite though, because she knew he was being depressed and mopy and wanted his favorites. It was sort of like a rice hamburger. Or maybe hamburger sushi would be a better term for it. She didn't know if she could mix and match those two food terms, but she was and Desmond never corrected her. Usually because Desmond was too busy eating. It was some sticky rice with spicy braised meat on top.

She looked at him when he came out of his room, "Hungry?" she asked, "Rice is almost done."

Desmond twittered at her, almost but not really smiling. He'd get the most out of his moping as he could, though food would be the end of it, really. Good food was good food, and really there would only be a problem if the mating hadn't been successful.

"That's what I thought," she said, going over to him and stroking his cheek. "So it was successful?" she asked and put her hands on her hips. She was going to have to bump up the cleaners to twice a week with a baby angel around since they molted regularly through different sizes of down feathers until they were teenagers.

He hadn't noticed that his hands were resting against his stomach. Desmond looked down with a gentle kind of smile. "It was." His wings twitched out somewhat and he sat on his taller, open-backed chair.

"Good, now I won't have the council breathing down my neck," she went back and checked the rice. It was almost done. She took the meat for Desmond off the pan but let hers continue to cook. It was nearly lunch time after all. "Should I call Ogoun to send Adha over?" she asked. She knew it was inevitable for her to have two baby angels in her house at the same time, so she might as well rip the bandage off early with having Adha come over now. They'd no doubt spend most of the time talking about Altair or whoever Adha's mate had been. And babies. Always with the babies.

He fidgeted. "Before or after we're due?" There was a period of time where breeders didn't even want to be in the company of another angel just because of either how early along they were, or how close they were. They were most amicable once the fledgelings were born, though. Something to do with mothering.

Desmond waited patiently for the rice, honestly pretty content.

"Well do you want to see her now?" Mars asked. "She's usually pretty good about making sure you don't mope about Altair."

"She is good about that." Desmond shrugged, "It would be nice," he said, resting his elbows on the table.

"Okay, I'll call him," Mars said and checked the rice. It was done. She got out a bowl and spooned the rice into it and then laid the patty on top. "Here you go," she said, "Nice and spicy, just the way you like," she smiled and put the bowl in front of him.

Desmond thanked her and ate, really only careful because the rice was so hot still.


	12. I Hate You

Desmond was a little sad to find that Diyari had been killed in the assault, but he was a really Goddamn adorable fledgeling, and he was his fledgeling. He was many things and one of them was that he was a very good mother, aside from the fact that fledgelings pretty much made it impossible to be a bad parent.

He cooed at the young angel, never without some kind of song to sing to him. It would be a while yet before Diyari spoke more than chirps and tweets, and though he slept most hours of the day, Desmond was never far from him. Besides, Adha was supposed to be coming soon, and she would be bringing Sawsan.

Desmond had been curious about the fledgeling since he heard from Mars that Ogoun told her the child was delivered safely. Of course, it was because it was his and not Malik's but that wasn't something he'd up and told anyone.

Mars… didn't like babies. She did not like babies. She didn't like children and she didn't have a maternal instinct in her body. She didn't even like Desmond when he was a fledgling. She let him stay with his mother until he had his full wings. There was a reason she didn't have any and she barely tolerated her niblings.

But now Desmond had a baby. Not the first one he'd had while he was her angel, but there it was. It was little and fluffy and covered in down and cried a lot and pooped and threw up and was in general a disgusting little ball of germs. Desmond at least knew she didn't like babies so he didn't try to make her hold Diyari. And that was besides the fact that she was sure Diyari knew she hated babies and children and seemed to throw up on her things regularly, or pee or poop on them. So Diyari was only allowed in part of the house, and Desmond wasn't allowed to leave him alone. Mars just… stayed away.

And now she was going to have two babies in her house since Adha was coming over. Two chirping, crying, smelly, baby angels. She was just going to lock herself in her office until Adha left and hope her house wasn't covered in baby throw up when she came out.

When Adha finally came over Mars got the door. She had her infant in a sling against her chest so her hands were free. "Hello," Adha bowed her head.

"Hello Adha. Des knows you're coming," and she let Adha in, "I'm going to be in my office if you need me," and then she retreated because babies.

Adha cocked her head after Mars and looked down at her daughter. "I don't think its you," she said and stroked her head with her thumb. "Desmond," she called, though assumed he was in his room, and headed in that direction. "Mars was acting so strange, is she sick?" she asked as she opened the door.

Desmond looked up at her when the door opened and smiled. He'd been grooming Diyari's fluff. "She hates children," he said simply, and then motioned to the expanse of his bed for her to sit. "She doesn't even like it when I find her before my final fledgeling molt." He cooed at the fledgeling tucked against Adha's chest, and then returned to the task of keeping his child's wings clean.

"Adha is here," he said, "She brought a friend today." Though it was the first time Diyari would even see another his own age, not to mention the first time he'd see Adha.

"Poor Mars," Adha said as she sat on the bed next to Desmond. "I did indeed bring someone," she undid the sling around her neck as her daughter started to wriggle and chirp. "This is your daughter Desmond," Adha said and halfway bullied herself into his lap. "Her name is Sawsan," and Sawsan flapped her little fluffy wings animatedly.

Diyari was peeping and chirping up a storm. He didn't very much like that Adha took over Desmond's lap, but he found that crawling into her lap was just as good, even though she didn't smell exactly like his mother. And the one called Sawsan was just as fluffy as he was.

Desmond actually kind of enjoyed a lapful of Adha and baby angels. The fledgelings were wiggly little bundles of downy feathers, and Sawsan was absolutely adorable. He trilled softly at her, more than pleased. "She's perfect, Adha," he said, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Well I'd hope you'd think so," Adha said as Sawsan squirmed in her lap to look at her half brother. "Thankfully she looks more like me than you," since they could get into trouble if anyone found out that Sawsan wasn't Malik's daughter.

Breeders were nearly never allowed to mate, because they would only produce more of themselves. To make more soldiers you needed either a pair of soldiers (but it was basically impossible for soldiers to breed) or one of each type. And after all the losses during the assault they needed to replenish their army. "Lets hope she stays that way," she said leaning against Desmond's chest as brother and sister investigated each other. Sawsan chirped loudly and angrily when Diyari pulled on one of her wings and though she was only a few months old she managed to smack him with it. Adha giggled and cooed and took Diyari's hands off Sawsan's wings.

Desmond's wings unfurled about them, resting on the bed. He ran his fingers over the soft, tiny feathers on Sawsan's head. He berated Diyari with nothing more than a sharp chirp, and the fledgeling almost looked guilty. Diyari gave a little whimper, little wings tight against his back.

Both children would forget about it pretty soon, but Desmond had a thing about making sure his children treated other angels decently. He nuzzled against Adha and Diyari was already back to playing with Sawsan, wings as wide as they could go in Adha's lap.

Adha sighed watching the children eventually tumble off her lap and onto Desmond's bed where they climbed all over each other, squeaking and chirping. "I'm worried," she said. Because she was. Of the two she'd get into the most trouble about Sawsan, because she was the mother and the one who'd 'led Desmond on' (even though it was literally the opposite). Ogoun wasn't that powerful in the council like Mars was. Angels who bred out of turn were usually punished because there were only so many in the soul reservoir so each match had to count. But when soldiers were still needed over breeders…

"What if she gets culled?" she asked, all of her feathers down. If Diyari wasn't a soldier that was fine, he'd at least had a chance, Sawsan never would have been a soldier, she wasn't part of the way things were done. If their Keepers and then the council found out who Sawsan's real parents were she could be culled. Not that death was particularly bad, more it was just annoying to grown angels, it was more just a waste of resources. Not to mention Adha had had time to grow attached to her daughter. She hoped Ogoun wouldn't be so cruel.

Desmond cooed softly, frowning. "She's so adorable though, how could they?" He knew they probably would, they had done things like this before. The council never really tolerated fledgelings from mis-mated pairs. His sigh was a long, slow one while he watched the fledgelings play with each other. While he hadn't had the time Adha had with Sawsan, the vague fatherly feeling he did have was intensified by the fact that he was a breeder.

Adha whined and leaned over and picked Sawsan up from where she was playing with Diyari. Sawsan squeaked and flapped her little wings. She held Sawsan close to her chest and cooed a moment. "I hate you," she told Desmond, holding their daughter tightly.

He made a face at Adha, whining back at her. "I'm sorry," Desmond murmured. Diyari chirped, and flapped, a little upset that his playmate had been practically spirited away. He got tiny fluffy feathers everywhere, and toddled up to Adha, pouting even more than Desmond was.

She frowned at him, "You did this," she reminded him. It wasn't that she didn't love her daughter, because she did, but she didn't want to lose her. With Desmond as her father though she very well might. She leaned against Desmond's chest and whined again. She absolutely hated this. She wished she'd just left when Desmond had started to make moves on her so Sawsan would be Malik's child and not Desmond's.

In her lap Sawsan chirped and Adha smiled a little and chirped back. "Love you my little one," she cooed to Sawsan adoringly. Sawsan chirped and flapped her wings, hands on Adha's chest. "At the very least she's adorable," she told Desmond and leaned down and kissed Sawsan's cheek. Sawsan squeaked and giggled and wriggled happily. Adha smiled.

Desmond was still making soft, unhappy sounds. "No, she's beautiful," he said. "I know… I made a mistake, but I don't regret it. When Diyari is old enough, I'd offer myself in her place." Desmond meant that. "She's a much more amicable breeder than I am." Or, if they actually were strapped for rebirthing soldiers, they could always pump him with hormones again. End up with a fluffy soldier for the trouble, but a soldier.

Diyari whined about the suddenly heavy atmosphere, and was still trying to get into Adha's lap with a high pitched growl. Really, he just wanted to play with Sawsan.

"Anyone makes a more amicable breeder than you," Adha teased Desmond and butted against his chin as she pulled Diyari into her lap too. Sawsan trilled a little as Diyari tackled her as best he could in Adha's lap.

He laughed, and reached up to tilt her head. Desmond caught her with a kiss, a soft, chaste one, and he felt kind of good about it. Actually, he felt really good about it. Diyari ended up snuggling against Sawsan, still cooing.

Adha kissed him twice before leaning against his chest. Sawsan chirped at her half brother. "Have you seen Altair since the assault?" she asked, she hadn't seen Altair this cycle. She'd asked Malik about him and while Malik had told her he was fine he'd been really confused how Adha would know Altair or care or know he would know Altair. She'd just told him she'd tell him later. She sort of suspected Altair was hiding from them, unless he'd come see Desmond. If he'd seen Desmond and not her she was going to give him a piece of her mind and smack him with her wings some.

"No," Desmond blinked, hands settling against Adha's thighs. "I asked Mars if Veles was contacting anyone… She didn't have an answer. I've been too busy with Diyari to go seek him out myself," he said, wings flicking out somewhat.

"He's useless anyway," Adha said dismissively with a little grin. "Sawsan," her daughter looked at her at the sound of her name, Adha gently tugged on her baby's wings, "your daddy is a much better one than Diyari's, did you know that?" she cooed. Neither of the little angels understood of course, but Sawsan responded to Adha's voice with some chirps and squeaks, fanning her little wings.

Diyari peeped, avoiding Sawsan's wings. He didn't find Adha's cooing voice very interesting, and instead, pushed his face against his half sister's wings. They were much softer than Desmond's feathers.

"Hey, I somehow still like the useless bastard," Desmond grumbled, though it was without much conviction. "He was… better before all of this." He sighed. "Maybe he's finally been allowed to remember everything and he's appalled at what a dick he's been."

"I think he's hiding," Adha agreed, Sawsan had decided she was tired and fallen asleep against her chest even with Diyari lying on her. She had to admit, Sawsan was like Desmond in that she could fall asleep anywhere at any moment, for any reason. "You'd think he'd want to see his son though," she tapped Diyari on his nose, "He's always so interested in his children."

Diyari was becoming drowsy, though he was also the kind of kid that tried to stay awake for as long as he could. His chirps were more like mumbles against Sawsan's back.

"I'm surprised he has taken this long… He would know now that we knew he didn't know us," Desmond murmured.

"He's afraid we'd be mad at him," Adha said and she didn't doubt that was true either. "Maybe we should go visit him?" she asked and rubbed Diyari's back gently. The baby whistled softly against Sawsan's down.

Desmond kissed her ear. "Would you want to? We could let him stew in it for awhile longer." At least, before he was the one who caved and went to see him. He placed his hands around Diyari, to give him a little more support while he drifted off to sleep against Sawsan.

"It's almost been a year Desmond," Adha said, "Ogoun even would have known if he'd been killed during the assault. He's purposefully ignoring us. And frankly, it's annoying. You at least have gotten to mate with him. I've barely even seen him. I've seen Malik more than him. Malik told me he's not doing anything important now that the humans have decided it was in their best interest to leave us alone," both the babies were asleep now, Sawsan on her chest and Diyari face first in Sawsan's fluffy back.

He was honestly a little embarrassed of the shit he pulled himself, but it was unfair for Adha at least. "Mars might like a house with no fledgelings for a little while. Should we crash his little soldier pity party? Or let the little ones sleep a little longer?" Desmond asked, looking down at them over Adha's shoulder.

"I have been wanting to bring Diyari to his father, though," he admitted.

"Sawsan's cranky when she doesn't get her nap," Adha said, gently petting her daughter's head. "Then we can go surprise Altair," and there was an unspoken 'and have some fun with him' which she knew Desmond would hear.


	13. 'Guy' Talk

It wasn't uncommon for Malik to visit Altair, in fact it was pretty common for them to hang out. After the assault and Veles had given Altair all his memories back he'd positively pissed Malik off by wanting to be around him. Which of course in Altair's mind was understandable. He remembered holding Malik's fragile head in his hands and snapping his neck. He'd killed Malik and he still couldn't believe it. Malik had… tolerated him. For a while at least before screeching at him to knock it off. Now Altair kept his clinginess to a minimum.

Sometimes Altair visited Malik's place too. But today Malik was here. Along with Yusuf. Poor Yusuf who now knew everything and now knew why the deputy commander of the entire academy, Rauf, took such interest in him. Altair couldn't imagine what it was like to have such an age difference between your life mate. Rauf was an old man even by angel standards and Yusuf was about Altair's age, a fresh and new soldier. He couldn't even begin to imagine how difficult it was. Altair couldn't know because his life mates were both young.

Not that he really knew of course. He'd… been avoiding them. Malik told him to suck it up but he couldn't. He was too proud and he'd been so… awful to the both of them the past few cycles. Except this one. This one he was just embarrassing. He didn't even want to look at Desmond until his next cycle. Though he knew he was being a coward and stubborn about it, especially since it had been nearly a year since they'd mated. He probably had a child by now. He couldn't bring himself to go see Desmond though.

Usually he just focused on other people's problems though since his own were stupid and petty. Like Yusuf's, who was visiting with Malik. They were having lunch together. Veles had hired a human who specialized in angel meals after the assault. After nearly a year he still couldn't believe how good the food was after the crap he was used to eating at the academy.

They were all going to get fat!

If there was one thing that all angels shared, it was a love of food. Yusuf was more than happy to try and ignore his woes by just stuffing his face. Besides, this human made some damn good food, and pretty much every single angel loved to eat.

Malik was getting over his initial irritation with Altair demanding he come over, lest the younger angel come and drag him over. Really, the idiot should just get over it. He wasn't upset about all of the memories they were now all privy to once more, and he certainly wasn't upset about Altair killing him. Back then, he had been… well, there was no other choice, or be euthanized by something or someone he didn't know. At first, he supposed that Altair actually worrying about something was endearing. It had gotten annoying very quickly.

How many times had he told Altair that he wasn't going anywhere since they got back? Too many times to freaking count. He lamented that he could no longer whap Altair with his wings - they were much too big for that. Though it was more for Altair's stupid pride now.

Grudgingly, he ate, but as he ate, Malik inevitably became less irritated. Seriously, where did this human learn all of this?

"You really should go see Desmond," Malik said, mouth full. Which was also something he said more times than he could count. "All of us were dicks to breeders, he understands why."

Altair had to swallow before he could speak, "We're not here to talk about my relationship issues, Malik," he said, his wings twitching slightly in annoyance. "We're here to talk about Yusuf's," and he nudged Yusuf's shoulder with one of his wings with a grin.

He was just pretending Malik hadn't said that. He knew Desmond understood. But that wasn't really an excuse for his last cycle. Fuck if Desmond hadn't been willing Altair honestly would have called their mating rape. It made him feel like a huge asshole. Well, more than usual.

He knew he needed to go see Adha too. But he doubted he'd like seeing her with some other soldier's kid. Thinking about it made some of his feathers on his back bristle. He hadn't even seen her for two cycles an he was pissed about some other soldier's - who could very well be dead now- kid. And he wouldn't even go see his own kid. He was a fucking mess.

Yusuf made a muffled sound at the tension hanging in the air. "I don't even haaaave a kid. And Rauf's old and we're both obviously soldiers and we all know this already." He didn't really know what there was to talk about. "I won't… have to wait a long time will I? You know… when he dies?" With all of the conflict, a lot of soldiers' exact memories of how many cycles they'd been through was kind of blurry. At least, for Yusuf it was. His Keeper was a little loose with how well he blocked memories.

Malik had opened his mouth to say something when he noticed the set in Altair's shoulders, but he just sat quietly while Yusuf spoke up.

"He hasn't died yet," Altair reminded him. "He and Rashid don't seem keen on dying anytime soon either," he spooned some more of his lunch into his mouth. Veles at least let him eat with his hands when other angels were around. Using utensils was considered stupid by angels and using them could get you called all sorts of things. On the top of the list was 'human' or 'homo' which usually started a fight.

"Not like him dying would do you any good. Rauf is the soldier. You're not," he added to Yusuf. Yusuf's Keeper had made sure he was soldier the last few cycles, just like Desmond's had made him a breeder. He could do both. Rauf though. Always a soldier. His next cycle wouldn't do any good for either of them since soldiers didn't have relationships like that usually.

"I know but…" Yusuf groaned, though it was more of a huff than anything else. "Cycles suck," he decided, and then licked his fingers. Malik chuckled.

Aside from being the oldest of all three of them this cycle, he was one of the angels that wasn't exactly bound to a life mate. "Nothing's saying you can't see him. Besides, the old bird's probably more interested in having someone to preen with," Malik said. It would take a few generations for them to become more balanced on the spectrum of the two castes, but none of them really had any memories of it. "Your Keeper shouldn't be adverse to the idea of you spending time with Rauf now that the fight is over."

"It's over for now," Altair said, "You know eventually the humans are gonna get their feathers all ruffled again about something and attack us without a reason. Like the last time," he huffed. "You maybe make it easier on yourself and off yourself," Altair said. Suicide wasn't frowned upon by angels like it was by humans or proeathans. Angels killing one another was. But not suicide. If you had a hormone or chemical imbalance it was an easy, permanent, fix, and then you'd come back a few years later to continue your life.

Altair smirked wickedly at a sudden thought, "Then Rauf would get to see you as a little fledgling," he teased Yusuf, nudging him with his wing again. "All fluffy and downy. I bet he'd die from the cute right then," and Altair laughed.

Yusuf's brows drew together and his wings shuffled. "I don't know. I want to talk to him first… Because he'd really get nothing out of me before he actually does die." Rauf was more like middle aged, honestly, but it meant he'd survived battles with the humans at least once. While age wasn't really that much of a problem, sometimes it was hard to wait. "It just doesn't make sense, would he want to basically… have to take care of me while I'm just a fledgeling?" Yusuf asked. "I mean, really, how much would you want to take care of Desmond if you were as old as Rauf is?"

"I'll have you know that if a baby Desmond or Adha was dropped into my lap I'd take care of them," Altair said. "And it isn't like he's going to take care of you. He's not your mom," Altair rolled his eyes at Yusuf, "he'd be around though," then he sighed, "Like Desmond was for me the entire time," he rubbed his face. "I went through three cycles before now," he lamented, meaning Desmond had seen him every time and watched him go through awkward teenage and down stages.

"I don't wanna make him go out of his way or anything." Even before they were given their memories back, Yusuf was the same way. He tried his hardest while Rauf and Malik trained him before the assault, not wanting to make extra work for Rauf. Though, while he didn't understand why at the time, Rauf still took him aside for extra lessons or exercises. Not that he ever complained. And Rauf never told him he was a bother. Yusuf shrugged.

Malik looked up, and finished licking his fingers clean. "You were adorable back then too, but seriously, you were a royal pain in the ass as a fledgeling." He looked over at Yusuf and put his hand on his shoulder briefly, "You, on the other hand, you're pretty mild mannered if I remember." Malik offered a smile that was mostly teeth.

"Hey!" Altair complained, "I was a fucking teenager what do you want from me?" he scowled at Malik. "Not like any of the other teenage soldiers were any better than me. And I was older than you once. You were a fucking nightmare who was way too bull headed for his own good. Or did you forget the first time you were reborn?" he asked Malik.

Their last life as a human-avian Altair had got to meet Malik when he was young, before he'd been returned to the soul reservoir, because he and the others of their flock had been useful because they could fight. Malik had been an absolute terror and liked pulling on wings and feathers and stubborn and talked back to everyone. Since then the proeathans have trained and and bred that out of Malik with mild mannered mothers. But he'd been awful before then.

"Well, I remember that now," he shrugged. "I didn't have a playmate either, did I?" Malik sat back, happily stuffed and sated. "I was used to having you to get into fights with and bully."

Yusuf snickered privately at the exchange, intensely amused.

"Oh that is so great to know that's how you think of me," Altair said, "You wouldn't even let me play with you," not that the proeathans would really either. They wanted their new angels to be untainted by humans and their ideals or even the human-avians. At the very least Altair had gotten to see Malik when he was small and fluffy. He'd never forget that.

"Best friends bully each other." Malik waved a hand at Altair. "How about something to drink? Call that chef back in, we'll see what he has."

Yusuf leaned toward Malik's plate, "You going to finish that first?" Malik had kind of already made it clear he was done, and Yusuf gladly ate what was left even though it wasn't much.

"I know they do, you're just so rough," Altair complained. He was about to get up and go find the cook when he stopped. "Do you two smell that?" he asked. Because it now became very obvious that they weren't the only angels at Altair's house. In fact, it was some breeders. "Please tell me you smell that," because it didn't just smell like breeders but… babies.


	14. Easy Play

Mars had been more than happy to be rid of the two children - even though they had spent the majority of the time sleeping. Desmond was just glad to get out of her hair. He knew how much she detested actual children.

 

He had a similar sling to Adha’s to hold Diyari against his chest so he could fly without risking dropping him - not that he ever would, but it was simply safer than clutching the fledgeling against his chest. On short flights he only held him, because Diyari seemed to really like feeling the wind, and even though his tiny wings were useless, flapping the fluffy appendages.

 

They had taken the time to feed the half siblings before leaving if only because they were chirping and peeping in the absolute highest pitch they could muster. Desmond had to wash Diyari because he’d tried to relieve himself on the table, as if the little angel thought his crap was the gift of the gods or something. Needless to say, it would have greatly upset Mars to find that stinky little present, so Desmond, of course, cleaned up after his kid (who was turning out to be as ungrateful as a memory-blocked Altair).

 

When they could finally head off, Desmond was a little tired but determined to crash whatever pity party Altair had concocted - or whatever he was doing avoiding both of his mates. He followed Adha, jumping into the sky after her.

 

Though she’d never been to Veles’ place Adha knew where it was, just like she’d known where Mars lived and her own Keeper lived. All proeathans resonated with them on some level but their Keepers did much stronger. Sawsan was dozing against her chest as she flew, unlike Diyari who wanted to see everything and fly on his own already. Thankfully Sawsan was a literal angel compared to her brother.

 

Veles had a nice house with an open courtyard and from the air there were two practice dummies in it. They landed in the courtyard, Sawsan chirped softly but didn’t wake. She could smell Altair, she could also smell Malik, and another angel she didn’t know but who was a soldier. “Here we are, shall we?” she asked Desmond.

 

Diyari immediately recognized his father’s scent, and only responded to it because he was a fledgeling. If he was older it wouldn’t have made a difference to him. Desmond shushed him, smoothing his feathers down. “After you,” he said, before turning his attention back to quieting Diyari’s chirping and fluttering.

 

“Well if they didn’t know we were here they do now,” Adha laughed and Sawsan complained sleepily. She walked towards the strong scent of soldiers in a separate house from the main house. Many Keepers kept their angels in separate houses on the property to keep the smell at a minimum. Especially soldiers who could smell strongly of everything from sweat to testosterone to blood.

 

Adha opened the door to the little house without knocking, she knew they knew they were there. Inside Altair, Malik, and some angel she didn’t recognize immediately, were sitting around an empty bowl that had previously held food. She smiled a little, amused, when Altair’s head feather’s went up with surprise. “Hello,” she said elegantly and let herself in.

 

Yusuf squinted at the new arrival, not really recognizing her either. Malik, on the other hand, brightened a little, feathers rising somewhat. “Adha,” he said with a slight smile. “And Sawsan - is that Desmond?”

 

He was still trying to convince Diyari to stay in the harness before the kid did something stupid. Like squirm and fall out or something.

 

“I guess you can’t hide from them any longer, Altair,” Malik all but crooned, smirking at him while Desmond ended up just giving up and letting Diyari out because the fledgeling was determined to wriggle and thrash until he did. He tucked him under his arm though, much to Diyari’s dismay, tiny, fluffy wings flapping wildly, though they didn’t do much hitting Desmond’s hip and arm.

 

“No he can’t,” Adha said and went over to Altair who was staring at her. She tapped him firmly on the head with the joint of her wing before going over to Malik. “Hold your daughter,” she told the soldier and lifted Sawsan out of the sling and put her into Malik’s lap. Malik didn’t have much choice in holding Sawsan, meaning Adha was free to pull the sling from over her head.

 

She leaned down and pressed a kiss to Malik’s lips, which made his feathers flare happily and next to him Altair absolutely growled. Adha gave him a look, “You don’t get to be mad I’m kissing my mate when I’ve barely seen you since you were a dryskin,” she scolded him. Altair growled but tried not to look too mad. She was right after all. Adha turned back to kiss Malik again. She was partially doing this because breeders were attracted to the fathers of their children (even though Malik wasn’t she was playing along), and partially doing this to piss Altair off. Not like he didn’t deserve it.

 

Desmond grunted and rolled his eyes. “You had sex with me anyway,” he growled at Altair when the soldier did. Diyari had stopped trying to get out of Desmond’s grip - after the first initial case of butterfingers, Desmond held his child fast, and the boy recognized that. He chirped and warbled at Altair, raising his arms toward him. At least Sawsan was… nonplussed about who her father was, and Desmond was glad that she was, because if she was as verbal and obvious as Diyari, they’d both be in a lot of shit.

 

Desmond was really tempted to throw something at Altair, though with the only thing he could throw being Diyari, he wasn’t too keen on that. Beaming Altair in the head with a baby wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but bless, the kid would probably think he flew. Instead, he sat down beside Altair, legs crossed. “Diyari, it’s Altair,” he said, and let the fledgeling try to crawl all over the soldier and use his dad like a jungle gym, chirping and peeping the whole time.

 

Altair was suddenly overwhelmed by baby, which he wasn’t expecting. Diyari was small and surprisingly agile and not so surprisingly keen on climbing all over Altair. It distracted him from Adha and Malik cooing over their baby. It meant Altair had to focus only on the baby wriggling around in his lap. “You’re really cute,” he told his little son and sort of put him on his feet. Diyari proceeded to press his little hands all over Altair’s face, smishing it around.

 

Yusuf was watching all of this with a vague kind of wistfulness in his eyes. He wanted a fledgeling of his own, dammit. They were just so freaking adorable, he couldn’t stand it. He was actually pretty envious of Adha and Desmond both, though Diyari looked like an absolute handful - clearly Altair was his father.

 

Desmond relaxed visibly once he finally had his hands to himself, and sagged as much as his wings would allow. Really, it was an exaggeration, but he was still incredibly pleased not to be dealing with Diyari’s antics. His eyes never went far from the fledgeling, but they were a lot softer than usual.

 

Once Adha was done kissing Malik she sat down between him and Altair and then leaned over and kissed Altair on his cheek. Malik might be her current mate but like Desmond she was also Altair’s life mate. If she and Altair were a peanut butter and jelly sandwich Desmond was the bananas. Or the other way around. They just… sort of went together.

 

Altair thrummed happily when Adha kissed him but was paying attention to his son who was still grabbing his face and hair. Altair grimaced when Diyari pulled on his short head feathers. “Ah, watch it buddy, those are attached,” and Diyari just chirped loudly. From Malik’s lap Sawsan peeped and wiggled a little but unlike Diyari didn’t try to squirm all around. She stayed right in Malik’s lap, enjoying feeling safe in the soldier’s shadow.

 

Desmond leaned against Adha somewhat, one wing unfolding a little more to hook around her. He made a soft sound at her, then looked past her to Altair. “Not so bad seeing your life mates, is it? Not like pulling teeth… Or plucking, now.” It was still a goal of his to make the soldiers feel uncomfortable, but he’d need Adha’s attention for that. Nothing got them bothered more than two breeders. Especially when they were already mated.

 

“You’d think it’d be harder with how hard he was trying to avoid us,” Adha said sweetly and settled against Desmond’s strong wing. She felt the soldiers watching intently, even Altair had pulled Diyari’s hands off his face in order to get a better look at what they were doing. She and Desmond smelled like babies and mothering and besides actually being in ‘heat’ nothing turned a soldier on more than breeders who were with children. She knew this was Desmond ‘punishing’ Altair for being a flake, and she played right along.

 

Desmond cooed softly against her ear, nuzzling against her cheek. He knew Malik was protective of Adha for the time being, and for that, he kissed her. Of course it worked just as well for Altair, because even though they were both mates of his, Altair had never been sure if he exactly liked Desmond fooling around with her.

 

It was far from the regular little kisses often shared by angels. Definitely not with his wing curved around her as it was. Desmond hadn’t even given Altair a kiss at all, but he was clearly more than happy to mack on Adha right in front of them all.

 

Yusuf legitimately squeaked.

 

Altair’s mouth dropped open when Desmond kissed Adha and he didn’t know if he was pissed or turned on. Desmond hadn’t even kissed him yet and he was kissing Adha. Kissing was not normal for soldiers at all. But… they were normal for breeders. Usually the castes were kept separate but unlike soldiers who were content on their own breeders- well, they needed what they needed. Including physical things. Altair knew two breeders would never mate, it was strictly prohibited. But… kissing and touching was fair game. This wasn’t even just a little kiss either, this was a kiss kiss. It made him mad cause they weren’t kissing him and both of them seemed to be enjoying it.

 

From Malik’s lap Sawsan finally decided she needed to remind everyone that she was there. She started chirping and peeping excitedly and flapping her useless fluffy wings. She was making it very difficult for Malik now. In Altair’s lap Diyari also started squeaking and chirping and smacked Altair in the chin with one of his wings.

 

There was a smirk on Desmond’s face when he pulled back. He chuckled, “How about that, Alty.” Desmond directed the shit eating grin at him, and then his attention turned to Diyari. He leaned over Adha’s lap, clicking his tongue. “There’s no need to smack Daddy,” he told him, reaching out to ruffle the small, soft feathers on the fledgeling’s head. The word was painfully human, but Desmond used it anyway.

 

Malik managed to avoid Sawsan’s flapping, but he kind of let the little girl out of his lap. Yusuf almost screeched, hands over his mouth because holy shit baby angels were so fucking precious and Yusuf wanted every single one of them he didn’t care if they basically only ate and shat and looked cute. He really wanted to scoop Sawsan up, but he was more worried that Malik or even Adha would maim him or something.

 

Diyari trilled and Altair grabbed Desmond by the feathers on his chest and jerked him closer to kiss him. Fucking jerk. Well… maybe Altair deserved them doing that. But really, in front of Malik and Yusuf? He couldn’t even work with that. He forgot how much he’d missed the taste and shape of Desmond’s mouth until he was kissing it too.

 

Sawsan was on the floor, half crawling, half squirming, until Adha picked her up and cooed to her, shushing her a bit. Sawsan peeped and wriggled but not too much, before quieting down again. She looked over at the angel she didn’t know really, at least not this cycle. He had a bit too many feathers for a full soldier. “Would you like to hold her?” she asked him while Desmond was busy shutting Altair up.

 

Yusuf beamed at her, “I would, I really would.” He didn’t move over to her until Desmond had sorted himself out and gotten off of her lap. Malik was still trying to figure out if he was pissed off at Desmond for kissing his mate right there in front of him, or if he was pissed that Altair was now trying to suck Desmond’s fucking face off. Whose arms Sawsan was in was not on the top of his list of things he was thinking about.

 

Adha pushed Desmond off her because she had more important things in her lap right now, like their daughter. “Here,” she didn’t bother to have to tell them to be careful like she’d had to with Malik. She knew they knew what to do.

 

Diyari chirped when Desmond and Altair seemed a bit too into kissing now. He was getting squished a little and did not like that one bit. He chirped loudly to get his parents attention. Honestly they should be paying attention to him.

 

Desmond pulled back, looking down at Diyari. “Oh you want kisses too, don’t you?” He picked up the boy, still half in Altair’s lap and half on the floor, and littered his face and head with little kisses. Diyari squirmed until Desmond stopped because that was definitely not what he had meant when he was chirping for their attention.

 

Yusuf cradled Sawsan in his arms, rather enamored with the entire idea of children. “She’s awfully pretty,” he said. “You’ve gotta be pretty lucky, Malik.” It was almost as if he was making a jab at the other fighter. He smiled down at her, petting and half preening her fluffy wings.

 

“Never happy,” Altair said once Desmond had put their son down, “Reminds me of someone I know,” he gave Desmond a look, raising his brows at him. He ran his fingers through Diyari’s fluffy wing feathers, and he seemed to like that much better.

 

“Of course he is,” Adha said, lying right through her teeth. Malik was lucky she’d even been interested in him while she was already pregnant since while so sex drive was way down. She’d had to fake some of it, but she doubted he’d even noticed. Most of the time soldiers were just glad to stick their dick into something. “Hopefully though she won’t get his nose,” and she reached over and tugged on Malik’s nose with a grin. Despite being reborn several times Malik seemed to favor large noses and there was nothing his Keeper could do about it. Adha thought it was funny.

 

“So I got fed up with your attitude. You telling me I was useless every single cycle was not an easy thing to hear,” Desmond shot back, though he settled comfortably against Altair’s side. Diyari settled back down in the soldier’s lap, exhaustion having finally caught up with him since he hadn’t slept like Sawsan had on the way over. He yawned, mouth full of tiny, sharp teeth, and was lulled by Altair’s hands on his wings.

 

Malik jerked back a bit, covering his nose with one hand. “I can’t do anything about that.” He didn’t really want anything to be done about it either. He was comfortable with how he looked, and he’d been looking that way for quite a while now. What he was more concerned with was watching Yusuf with his daughter even though he knew that the young soldier wouldn’t hurt her.

 

Yusuf smiled down at Sawsan, still cooing at the fledgeling.

 

Altair scowled at Desmond. They both knew Desmond was being a bit unfair there. "I'm sorry," because his only excuse was the truth but somehow it was still weak. He leaned over and nuzzled Desmond. It wasn't like he could help what he'd been doing. He hadn't known who Desmond was the past few times. "I'll be better from now on," unless his Keeper changed and decided that (like some members of proeathan society) they didn't like Mars and wouldn't let Altair have those memories to know he was supposed to be with Desmond and Adha. In his lap their baby chirped sleepily because Altair had stopped petting his wings. He returned to his task and Diyari was once more content.

 

Adha didn't miss Malik's concerned look at Yusuf and Sawsan. "She's fine," she reminded him gently and pressed her wing against his. "Who are you anyway?" she asked because she still didn't know. She just knew he seemed familiar.

 

The young soldier was too preoccupied with the fluffy baby in his lap to notice he was being spoken to. “It’s Yusuf,” Malik supplied, amused when he looked up like he’d done something wrong.

 

“What?” Yusuf blinked, brows drawn somewhat. “You don’t remember me?” Well, it wasn’t really that Adha and he spent a lot of time near each other either. The last time they’d really even remotely known one another was before the proeathan awakening, and there wasn’t much communication between the two of them.

 

Understanding dawned on Adha, "Oh," she said and now felt really embarrassed. "Yes now I do. I haven't seen you in a while. You've changed," now he wasn't all dark haired and had a beard. He had brightly colored wings, which was odd for a soldier, but other than that was just like any other soldier. "Where's Rauf?" since she remembered he and Yusuf had basically been attached at the hip some life times ago. "Have you seen him since the assault?" Because she didn't know. Unlike Desmond she stayed away from the academy like she was supposed to. She let the soldiers do what they wanted and ignored them unless her Keeper told her she was going to be mated.

 

“I haven’t, not personally, I mean. He survived, Rauf always does.” Yusuf smiled a little. “He’s getting pretty old though,” he admitted, “and I can’t be bred.” They didn’t have separate genders anymore but there was a different kind of dysphoria while they were still in war-modes. “Fledgelings are so cute.” Yusuf finally surrendered Sawsan back to Malik and Adha, biting back his sigh.

 

Desmond looked over at Yusuf, “You go see him, though. You’ll both like that.” He was glad that Diyari finally fell asleep in Altair’s lap, but he wasn’t keen on moving the boy just yet. Occupying Altair deserved to have his time occupied by their child.

 

"We've tried to tell him that. He's too shy," Altair said with a little snicker. "Rauf is one of our main overseers at the academy," he added, "and Yusuf was his special boy," Altair teased him and knocked Yusuf with his wing. Being a 'teacher's pet' had a similar connotation as being their bitch. For soldiers there were few things more insulting or humiliating to be referred to in the same manner as a breeder, or someone who laid on their back a lot. The stigma wasn't as bad now and wouldn't start fights like it used to. Now it was mainly just embarrassing instead of infuriating or grounds to beat another angel to pulp.

 

Yusuf made a face at Altair. “Was not…” though he was, and he knew it now. “And fine, fine, I’ll go see him,” he said, just a little red.

 

Desmond leaned hard on Altair. “That’s not actually insulting. And if I catch you using things like breeder as an insult, so help me, I will pluck you naked.” Really. They were made this way to reduce that kind of prejudice. Of course, it rubbed off on angels from their Keepers, who were just as bigoted and sexist as their failed human projects.

 

"I was just teasing!" Altair cried and in his lap Diyari grumbled. He looked down and rubbed his son's belly to help him go back to sleep. Diyari shifted so he was more stretched out on Altair's lap. "We don't do that anymore," most of the castist bull shit with soldiers mainly came from the fact that they remembered nothing. Most of them had, by now, been put into place by their mates. Even a mild mannered breeder (like Adha) would put a soldier in their place for acting like a shitty sexist human or proeathan.

 

"Good," Adha said giving him a significant look.

 

Altair pulled his wings over his head a bit, slouching as best he could. "Don't kill me," he said quietly. Though he knew they could do worse than that. Like make him miserable. Like make out in front of him again and not let him join our kiss him either. That pretty much drove him _crazy_.

 

“Oh… we wouldn’t.” Desmond smiled innocently, reaching over to soothe Altair’s feathers. “Besides, give it a few cycles, even you could bear a child.” Not that Altair ever would.

 

Malik snickered at the thought of Altair actually mothering a child, “He doesn’t have a single mothering bone in his body.” How he was acting now was about as close as it got.

 

Despite what he'd just said Altair looked absolutely _horrified_  by the thought of that. He was still a soldier after all and so he didn't ever want to be a breeder. Just the thought made him uncomfortable. "I really, really, don't," he agreed with Malik dumbly. Adha giggled at him.

  
“That’s a good punishment to remember, then.” Desmond’s grin was absolutely wicked. Even Malik was a little unnerved by it. He took Diyari’s sleeping form from Altair’s lap, and cooed at him so that he didn’t rouse too much. The switch from the toothy smile to soft, quiet cooing was a bit extreme.


	15. Much Needed Break

Altair was lying on the ground on the outside patio of Mars’ house. He was here often and since it was nice out he liked going outside. He was lying on his back his little son standing on his chest. Altair was holding onto Diyari’s hands so the toddler didn’t fall down but he was up mostly on his own, his fluffy, downy, wings splayed out for balance. Altair cooed to him and Diyari chirped back and flapped his wings which unsettled his tenuous balance and he sat back hard onto Altair’s stomach.

 

Chuckling a little Altair sat up, cradling his son against his chest before setting him to stand up in Altair’s lap. “Almost had it that time,” he told Diyari nicely and kissed his son’s temple. “You going to walk soon?” he asked. Diyari just chirped and put his hands on Altair’s chest and looked at him for a long time. Altair turned a bit to look over his shoulder at Desmond who was relaxing in the sun. When Altair was around Desmond did a whole lot of nothing because he was their son’s primary caretaker and Altair couldn’t be around all the time. “How long until you think he can walk?” he asked his mate.

 

Desmond cracked an eye open, and looked at Altair, pupil adjusting rapidly. One of his wings swung up and shaded him. He made a noncommittal noise. “Depends, honestly. And when he does, it’s just a whole bunch of making sure he won’t walk into something. Or fall.” He rolled over and shook out his wings, warm and sleepy from basking for so long.

 

He hunkered down beside Altair, letting Diyari grab his fingers. “Hi, Diyari,” Desmond cooed, smile curving his lips. “You’ll get it soon,” he said, referring to the whole standing business.

 

Diyari squeaked and flapped his wings at that before wanting to crawl all over Desmond. Diyari might recognize that Altair was his father but Desmond was his mother and unlike Altair Desmond was always around. Altair had only been around for a few weeks.

 

Altair leaned back, propping himself up on his arms, his wings splayed, “How often does Adha come by?” he asked Desmond. He didn’t feel comfortable visiting Adha while she was raising Malik’s daughter. It felt like he was intruding. So he just hoped to see her when he visited Desmond since he knew they hung out.

 

Desmond shrugged, wings rising. “Once or twice a week? Give or take.” He let Diyari monkey himself across his chest and shoulders, even spread his wings out for him if he could get all the way to them. He was used to the boy using him like a jungle gym, because even if he couldn’t walk, the kid could climb like a motherfucker, and that was… well a lot of young avians could.

 

Without the ability to fly, it was the only other way for them to get away. Walking usually happened pretty early, but Diyari seemed to be struggling with that. If they’d lived as some of them had, wild flocks, Diyari might not have lasted long, for the amount of time he wanted to spend crawling around as opposed to clinging to Desmond’s side. That was another survival mechanism, and honestly, there was a lot of claws included in this clinging action. They were supposed to be able to hold on while their mother flew, so it never really bothered Desmond until Diyari learned he could scratch if he was even a little bit irritated.

 

Once Diyari was nearly on Desmond’s shoulders did he look at him, “Deh deh,” he said.

 

“He doesn’t just squeak?” Altair asked, sitting forward. He’d never heard Diyari say anything close to normal speech before. Always just whistles and chirps and more animalistic noises. Or crying. Angel babies still sounded like human and proeathan babies when they were upset and the crying set any angel within earshot off and attempt to get to them. To stop the crying. The protective instinct had faded out of human, but most angels hadn’t had enough time to learn to ignore every crying baby.

 

“Diyari, you say hello to Baba?” He only smiled at Altair, not quite answering. Sometimes Diyari just called him Deh, but it wasn’t exactly like trying to say daddy. He’d heard some sounds similar to ‘baba’ out of his mouth, and Desmond assumed it meant what he thought it was trying to mean. He’d learned the specific sounds that he made for certain things, like sleep or food, but trying to teach the actual words to him just made him wail his baby-talk version of the word even louder.

 

“Baw,” Diyari said and then chirped. “Jawa,” and he looked around, like he was looking for something. Then back at his parents.

 

From inside the doorbell rang. “Desmond,” Mars called from her office, “get the door.”

 

Maybe the fledgeling had picked it up from how often Mars just yelled ‘Desmond’ with varying inflections from her office. Desmond slouched as much as his wings allowed. “Alright.” His voice lowered a bit, “Ready for up?” he asked Diyari, who was still clinging to him. He knew his boy would just grasp to him even tighter, but the surprised squeak he tended to make was priceless, so he hopped to his feet, and almost immediately felt claws.

 

Desmond had been expecting Adha when he got to the door, but his expression softened. “Can I help you?”

 

The angel at the door was jumped when Desmond opened the door. He’d been expecting it, but he was nervous. His claws were filed down to nails, which just led him to bite them. His Keeper didn’t like him biting his nails. But he didn’t bite them when they were long. His Keeper hadn’t decided if they liked the nail biting or the claws less yet. “Uh…” he stammered and straightened, tucking his gray-blue wings behind his back, to get them out of the way and not appear threatening. Not easy to do when you were a big soldier standing in front of a breeder and their kid. Sure a bigger breeder than normal, but still shorter than him. “My name’s Jari. Uh… is Diyari here?” he asked carefully. He knew breeders didn’t like strange angels near their children. But…

 

He blinked, then his smile widened. “Of course Diyari is here. He’s mine and Altair’s fledgeling. And relax. Altair’s default is more threatening.” Desmond held his wings out again, heaving a sigh when Diyari refused to budge from the spot he’d chosen to cling to him.

“Diyari, don’t be like that,” he chided quietly. Desmond wasn’t entirely sure of who Jari was, but he didn’t feel threatened by them, even with his hormones still a little overclocked with his fledgeling around.

 

Diyari chirped, fluffy wings fluttering out. He peeked over Desmond’s shoulder and chirped again, uncharacteristically shy. “Habi, haaaba.”

 

Desmond heaved a sigh, though he was amused at what he more or less cooed. “I’m Desmond,” he said, moving aside somewhat, which caused Diyari to move to the other shoulder. “Mars won’t mind another guest. At least, she better not, because you don’t have another child like most of them do.” Though them obviously only meant one person, and that was Adha with Sawsan. He hoped she couldn’t hear how much Diyari was whistling.

 

“Thank you,” Jari said, but he wasn’t looking at Desmond. He was looking at Diyari clinging to Desmond’s head.

 

“Desmond,” Mars called, ‘Who’s at the door?”

 

“It’s Jari,” Desmond replied, as if that explained everything. He didn’t elaborate either, and just led Jari out to the yard and patio, Diyari whistling and cooing at Jari nearly the whole time.

 

“We’ve got a different visitor today, his name is Jari,” he told Altair, sitting down on the floor pillows so he could coax Diyari off of his back and into his lap. The infant wriggled in his arms, but quieted to a less… frantic decibel. “And he came asking about Diyari. He’s pretty cute, I think.” Desmond smirked.

 

If Jari was nervous before he _really_ was now. He honestly hadn’t expected another soldier to also be there and judging by the general smell of the place, he was also the father. All the feathers on Altair’s head twitched back and while he didn’t make a noise it was very clear he didn’t like another soldier in his mate’s home, asking about his son. But he didn’t say anything because Desmond would get on his case about it.

 

“Hello,” Altair said in a very cool, clipped, manner.

 

“Jawaaaa,” Diyari said and then patted Desmond’s chest, chirping loudly, “Deh, deh, deh, jawaaa,” and then he was babbling in baby angel talk with was mostly just bird noises all strung together.

 

Desmond smoothed Diyari’s feathers. “What’s that?” He mimicked some of Diyari’s sounds, his own feathers rising a little. Altair was damn right he wouldn’t get his way in Desmond’s home. “Sit, Jari, Altair doesn’t bite. We’re all done with the ‘punch an angel if they look at me wrong’ phase for the rest of our cycles here.” He cast a look at Altair.

 

“And you, chill out.” Seriously, Desmond had _mothered_ this fledgeling, and he was totally relaxed bringing a rather unknown angel this close, a fighter, even. He wasn’t the least bit threatened, but the smell of Jari’s nerves would get to him sooner than anything else.

 

“You know Diyari?” He looked over at the younger angel. “I can’t say I remember you.” There was a general familiarity. There always was, because at some point, every angel had probably touched every other’s life, regardless of how brief. So many short, random encounters never held up to anything more than a vague memory that was more like feelings than an actual memory.

 

“I’m chill,” Altair said, slightly defensively. But he didn’t like some strange soldier near his son or his mate. Hell it was bad enough knowing that Malik was Adha’s mate and he knew Malik. He was getting sort of mixed signals though. Desmond was relaxed, and despite sitting, Jari was still a bit keyed up. It was like just existing Jari was begging Altair to bury his fist in Jari’s face. If he did anything wrong he would too.

 

“I do,” Jari said, sitting, his wings still folded against his back and he sat in a very compromising way, sitting on his thighs, wings tucked. It was hard to stand quickly when angels sat like this. Mainly he was doing it so… Altair, wouldn’t flip out. Not something totally out of character for a soldier either. “I- he,” he took a breath, it wasn’t like Diyari’s parents wouldn’t understand. So he just got to the point, “I’m Diyari’s life mate.”

 

“And that is what you were nervous about?” Desmond asked over the ruckus Diyari made in his lap. He actually slapped Desmond’s chest, little hand spread wide like he’d been patting him before, except forgot to check his strength. It didn’t do much but leave a slightly red patch midst his feathers. “See, Alty, absolutely no threat.” He rubbed over the slap mark.

 

“My Keeper told me I shouldn’t be so forward about it. So I was, a bit,” Jari admitted. “I just… miss him,” he said rather helplessly. It was worse that Diyari had died during the last assault and then Jari had been reminded. He’d had to do a lot of begging to get his Keeper to find out which angel Diyari had been born to.

 

Diyari chirped, “Jawaaa,” he said, “baba, jawaa.”

 

“He spoke!” Altair said, his previous annoyance disappaiting instantly in sudden interest of what his son was doing.

 

“Yes, it’s Jari,” Desmod cooed. “I let you hold him, you aren’t doing anything weird.” His gaze flicked up to Jari, golden eyes hard, and focused much more tightly than they had been. “You don’t need me to explain.” Because Jari didn’t.

 

He moved closer to Jari, and let the fledgeling have free range of his lap. He could go to Jari’s just as easily as he could sit back down.

 

Diyari, of course, reached for Jari, expecting to be picked up and moved.

 

“No, you want jawaa, you go yourself.”

 

And the fledgeling actually made a huffing noise. He toddled, wings spread, but didn’t last on two feet any longer than he had on Altair’s belly earlier. Diyari patted Jari’s thigh and whistled. “Jaaaawaa!”

 

Desmond just rested his chin on his knuckles. “He says a few other things,” he admitted, speaking to Altair though his eyes remained on the fledgeling.

 

“He does? Like what? I’ve never heard him say anything,” Altair said.

 

For their guest Jari looked like he was about to cry. He and Diyari hadn’t even _known_ each other at the academy. He’d only found out afterwards. Which was probably the worst part. Once Diyari had sort of climbed into his lap he wrapped his arms around the little ball of down and hugged him, tightly but not _too_ tightly that it’d hurt. He made a soft cooing in the back of his throat as he held Diyari close, gently petting his head and cuddling him, it was more like a purr really. Diyari just squeaked and chirped and let himself be smothered.

 

“Well, baba, for one. And no. I think he’s trying to figure out how to say Mars.” He’d moved to Altair’s side, far from worried about Jari. In fact, it was making him a little emotional. Desmond nudged a wing against Altair’s, not quite leaning against him, but rather intending to.

 

“He says no already? Why am I not surprised,” Altair huffed and extended one of his wings to curl around Desmond, bringing him closer. He remembered their last human life; Desmond’s first word had been no. “Make sure he learns how to say yes too,” he said, watching Jari but not closely. The other soldier was so meekly subservient and passive with Diyari in his lap Altair couldn’t even think to get riled up. Still he knew it had to suck, to find your life mate but know you had to wait a long time to see them. Altair had just been a pussy about his and too nervous to see them, but at least he got to have sex with Desmond and Adha.

 

Desmond laughed softly, watching Jari sit there with his fledgeling. Diyari only really looked that peaceful when he was asleep, or well fed, and Desmond was rubbing Diyari’s belly. It was almost disgustingly sweet, if he was honest.

 

Diyari was standing in Jari’s lap, mostly leaning against him because he still had to figure out exactly how balance worked. He smiled up at Jari, and most of the calmness wore off, he just had to climb all over this new, familiar angel. That was exactly what he did, wrapping his arms around Jari’s neck.

 

Altair watched his son climb all over Jari and knew he didn’t have to worry about him doing anything to his boy. This could actually be a good thing honestly. Desmond was leaning against his shoulder, watching the two angels, tucked up within Altair’s wing.

 

“Hey Des,” he said lowly while Diyari had climbed onto Jari’s shoulders, “Jari can watch Diyari if you wanna go do something fun.”

 

“So _you_ want something? You dirty son of a bitch. Of course I do.” They hadn’t been able to do _anything_ , even if Diyari was in another room. It was like he had a sex radar, and the entire point of the toddler’s existence was to make sure Altair and Desmond couldn’t fuck.

 

Altair smirked, “Jari,” he said and the soldier looked up quickly.

 

“Yes, sir?” he asked, which was amusing since Altair didn’t actually have any rank. But Altair appreciated that. Altair knew, but didn’t mind, that Jari was sort of just sucking up to him so he didn’t rip the angel apart when Diyari was older and fuckable.

 

“Would you watch Diyari for a few minutes? Desmond and I have something to take care of.”

 

Well at least Jari wasn’t stupid, he didn’t ask, but he also probably didn’t need to. “Sure,” he just said.

 

“Good,” and Altair got up and dragged Desmond along with him.

 

When Altair tugged him up and into the house, almost every single one of Desmond’s feathers rose, from the ones on his head, to the softer ones between his wings, and even the small ones on his chest and shoulders. In his room, he pushed Altair toward his nest of a bed, wings opening somewhat. Honestly, he was just looking forward to getting more than just a handjob, because that was usually as far as it got with Diyari around, palming and rutting before the fledgeling complained about _something_. So of course Desmond was a little excited.

 

Altair grinned and yanked up on Desmond’s tunic, getting it up and off before pulling Desmond down into a firm, heated, kiss. “Never thought I’d say this,” Altair said, “but I’m really glad our son has a life mate,” because Jari would keep their son entertained while they… entertained themselves. He moved his wings to get more comfortable and ran his claws lightly up Desmond’s thighs, enough to leave slight red marks, but not enough to break his soft skin.

 

Desmond cooed, finding nothing wrong with Altair’s claws on his skin. He hiked up Altair’s simpler tunic so he could trail his hands across his chest and down his stomach. His fingers rubbed over the base of the mound at Altair’s pelvis, palm covering the rest of it.

 

Altair groaned. “There better be more than that or I’m killing Jari for not being good at looking after babies,” he said and his hips pushed upwards against Desmond’s hand. He would be ready to go in literally just a few moments. He didn’t realize having a kid around would really leave him this sexually frustrated. It was like having your favorite cake around and not being able to eat it and that was a really old, human, metaphor. He should probably stop that and focus on Desmond’s hand.

 

With very little real encouragement Altair’s dick unsheathed and was half hard on his stomach. He grabbed the back of Desmond’s neck and pulled him down to kiss his mouth and gently nibble on his lips. This in all honestly would probably be quick at first. Just to get this fucking tension out of the god damn way so they could actually _enjoy_ having sex.

 

“Relax, will you?” Desmond laughed softly against Altair’s mouth, and then pressed into the kiss. He wanted him just a little more slicked before he literally sat himself on that cock. It wasn’t like he’d had time to prepare himself or anything, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t pretty much aching for him.

 

Desmond let his hips jerk against Altair, and he keened softly. He hooked his arms around Altair’s shoulders, getting up on his knees. Desmond didn’t leave Altair’s kisses without licking his scar, though.

 

“Diyari could literally start crying any second,” Altair said, because even with Jari around he would not put it past their son’s crazy cockblock radar to go off and need Desmond right now. Currently though Altair needed Desmond right now.

 

Altair slid his hand on Desmond’s along the inside of Desmond’s thigh to the bump on his groin. He didn’t bother with getting Desmond to unsheath. He was _waaaaay_ more interested in the other part of the equipment. He’d worry about dicks some other day or at least round two. “Once we’re done I’ll relax,” he promised and eased first one finger and then two into Desmond to help get him ready since they literally had not had sex in almost a fucking year.

 

Desmond keened, louder this time. No small part of him was miffed that Altair was more or less only concerned with his own penis. This still felt damn good, even though all it had been was Altair’s fingers. His wings twitched out and folded over Altair.

 

“I’m ready already, you just gonna keep fingering me or what?”

 

“I wasn’t going to, but I figured I’d be nice,” Altair said and pushed Desmond up a little to position them. He groaned blissfully when Desmond came down again and the fine feathers on his head stood up even as he eyes closed.

 

Every single feather on Desmond’s body lifted, and he buried his hands in the soft feathers on Altair’s head. He swore, breath shuddering. God, yeah, this was what he needed. Desmond nearly sang when he took him completely, and ground down even further.

 

He pressed his nose against Altair’s cheek, nuzzling him and cooing, each sound tumbling eagerly from his mouth.

 

Altair dug his nails into Desmond’s thighs, drawing a little bit of blood. His keeper had cut and filed his claws down, to be ‘safer’ around his children. But with enough pressure he could still pierce flesh. He drew a short track of blood up Desmond’s thighs as his hips bucked upwards. His shoved against the bed and he put a bloodied hand on Desmond’s bed to steady him as he sat up, his other hand grasping Desmond’s ass.

 

This was a much more comfortable position. Their wings were free to act without their control or meet the resistance of the bed. Altair could also easier control the speed from this position and got enough leverage to move his hips at a steady interval upwards.

 

Desmond met each thrust, twitching and shuddering. The smell of blood made him coo in a completely different manner. His eyes were already so blown and dilated, iris already so brightly gold they tried to burn white, there wasn’t much more physical arousal to be had. He scraped his teeth against Altair’s jaw, licked the slight ridge of his scar, then bit and nipped his way into another kiss.

 

He was definitely full against his stomach now.

 

Altair moaned into Desmond’s mouth and found it all a bit too much. He pulled his mouth away and gasped as he came, thrusting up roughly into Desmond, his wings shuttering. “Fuck,” he groaned, looking down between them panting. Desmond was unsheathed and trembling.

 

He flopped back onto Desmond’s bed. “I feel much better,” Altair said with a dreamy smile and took hold of Desmond’s dick which was in sore need of attention. “You?’ he asked as he started to run his hand sort of lazily up and down Desmond’s cock that at the attention started to leak. He smirked because he knew Desmond had liked it too. If they could get away with it they’d be at this for a bit, unless their son started crying. Though Altair needed to rest. He felt exhausted now.

 

Desmond could only really chirp and warble breathlessly, claws digging into Altair’s skin. He didn’t last long after Altair began to stroke him. He’d ended up kneeling over Altair, hands on his shoulders. His wings were pressed into the bed, half supporting his weight, while the other half, mostly his feathers, shook.

 

He had made Altair’s lip bleed with one of the bites, and leaned back down to lick it from his mouth with a low near-whimper.

 

Altair stopped stroking Desmond as he came down, he’d already started to resheath, and he yawned. “Do I get a short nap before you make me get up again?” he asked Desmond. He knew Desmond. Knew him even better now honestly. He knew Desmond liked to have a lot of sex. Though before they’d become angels he’d never had this problem with needing to sleep afterwards. It was really annoying.

 

He let his wings give out and dumped his weight across Altair. “Just a little bit,” he muttered, half nuzzling into his shoulder. Desmond didn’t stay there for long, pushing himself up with a long, drawn out sigh. Both of them had _really_ needed that. Standing, he wiped himself down, then threw the cloth at Altair.

 

Desmond stretched out his wings, flapped them, then folded them back up. He couldn’t be bothered to put something on, and walked out to Jari and Diyari. “He wasn’t any trouble, was he?”

 

Altair grumbled tiredly and was awake long enough to wipe down before just passing out.

 

Jari’s head jerked up from where he was cooing to Diyari adoringly, singing to him softly. “No, he was no trouble at all,” Jari said and Diyari whistled because Jari wasn’t paying attention to him. Jari nuzzled him. “He was a good boy and didn’t complain even once.”

 

Desmond smiled and kneeled down beside Jari, adding his own soft sounds. “That’s good,” he said, reaching out to smooth some of Diyari’s feathers down. His own were still a bit mussed. “You are welcome to see him when you like, just send for Mars beforehand so she knows.”

 

“Okay, thank you,” Jari said, smiling widely. “Now that I know where he is I’ll be sure to come by more,” and after a moment surrendered Diyari back over to Desmond because the boy, now seeing his mother, wanted to go to him. Diyari chirped at Desmond and snuggled up against his chest happily and much like his father, promptly took a nap.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're not done.
> 
> And neither are these stupid birds.


End file.
